I think, perhaps, that I give certain problems too much of a voice. In voicing them, especially to other people, I give them a more substantial existence. Many of my problems are better or worse depending on the day, and when I feel like complaining about them it seems to make them more real. I wallow a bit more, because whoever I'm complaining to takes some amount of pity on me. It justifies my feelings. Being told "I understand" or "it's okay, [insert cliche truth here]", just gives me more of a reason to feel the way I do.

So. An experiment. I'm not going to complain about certain things. I'll still write about things, most likely, but not in a whiny way. Just a third-party explanation of what my brain happened to do that day.

I say all this because on Friday, I had a wonderful time. I was social, I drank, and we played charades for two hours. A huge group of people, some of whom I did not know. I was relaxed, didn't pout at myself or wonder if I should shut up. It was fun. Freeing. It doesn't happen all that often.

So the next day, I remembered my old co-worker had her junior violin recital. I decided to go, because a lot of my old friends would be there and I knew it would be the last chance I'd get to see them, most likely. I was social the night before, I told myself logically, and it was just fine! I went to a Down/Orange Goblin concert earlier in the week as well, and it was wonderful.

But this night was a train wreck of self-doubt/hatred, awkwardness and annoyance. The recital itself was amazing, but people I thought I had been close to weren't very responsive and I felt slightly rejected. The girl I liked the most and was closest to barely looked at me, and she left early without saying goodbye. Another girl didn't even sit by us, and I sat next to someone who wasn't even in my group of friends. The guy I ended up standing next to at the reception was socially awkward as hell and I had no idea what to say to him. I ate food just to have something to do while standing around. Finally, I snuck out, feeling dejected.

Can't win them all, I suppose. It's finals week, and I think many were there just to make an appearance.

But I can't help but think no one cares that I'm moving in a month. I texted everything to Josh, during and after it all, and I think I was more sad for the rest of the night because of it.

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