09.13.2004
2:28 p.m.
Sometimes...I'm broken
There are days when I feel that my husband and I are two pieces of a puzzle; soulmates. We belong together, we complete each other and there is no one in the universe I'd rather be with.
Then there are days like today, when I feel like I am the last person in the world my husband should have married.
I tend to be a creature of habit. A homebody. Somewhat anti-social. Nearly autistic. I like my routines and for the most part, I dislike change. Sameness keeps me happy.
My husband is more of a mover and a shaker, a socialite, someone who makes new friends wherever he goes. I tend to stick like glue to the people I know, and barely speak to those I don't. Especially when it's my husband's friends from high school or college.
(The sad part about this whole thing is that when I was dancing, I could walk up to anyone anywhere and talk to them without feeling uncomfortable. I think I've retreated back into my shell since then. If you don't practice it, you lose it, right?)
I've heard story after story after story about all the hijinks that he and his friends participated in. I've heard numerous stories that began, "This one time we were SO drunk that..." I've heard more stories about past loves than I'd ever want to hear. I've heard so much about some of these people that I feel like I almost know them already. And yet...
I feel uncomfortable when we're with his friends from the past. Perhaps it's only due to the fact that spending time with his high school and college friends is like a long episode of "Where Are They Now?", except it's about people I don't know and may never meet. I manage to jump into the conversation every once in a while, but mainly I just sit pretty and shut up. I feel out of place. I feel like someone who is more intelligent/witty/funny/accomplished/social than me would be able to bounce into the situation, immediately feel comfortable and make people love them, and would be able to contribute something profound to the conversation. I feel like he should have married a sorority president or a cheerleader or someone...totally unlike me.
I feel like a freak and a loser and it makes me incredibly sad because I know that what seems like a good time catching up with old friends to him feels like swimming with sharks to me. I need to remember to keep up appearances, try not to look too nervous, try not to talk too much so people don't think I'm a blabbermouth, but try not to speak too little either, so people don't think I'm stuck up. I need to fight against every fiber in my being that is screaming "Must! Go! Home! Too many people! Possible danger everywhere! Home is safe!" and the feeling that if I just curl up in a corner and disappear, everything will be okay.
And the saddest thing of all is that I can never truly make my husband understand what this is like and how I feel when we're in group situations because he is so far from being like that. I can speak in similes and metaphors and try to paint pictures with my words of the moving-through-gelatin feeling or the creepy-crawlies-all-over-your-skin feeling or the someone's-out-to-get-you feeling, and maybe there's a minute chance I can make him understand, but even then...
Even then, I don't know how to fix it.
I guess at this point my only option is to throw myself out there and TRY. If only for him.
It's times like these when I wish it was socially acceptable to be an almost-25-year-old-woman who carries a stuffed animal around.
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