I’m slowly getting out, make plans, meet people, do things like in The Before Time, in Bangalore again. It’s been oddly disorienting. Like learning to walk again. Strange how much like pyshiological muscles, our social/emotional muscles also forget how to flex and stretch when they’re not in use, I suppose.
It’s been a strange mix of so badly wanting to go out and hang out with peeps, but also feeling like the thought is overwhellming and asking for too much effort. Also, so much has happened with me and my friends in this time of distance, I no longer know where I stand with many of them. The ones I am currently closest to live overseas and we connect more often than we ever have, over video chat. Here, with the folks I share a city with, I have chosen not to reach out or make plans since March last year when everything went tits up. I don’t know what to make of this strange love-hate thing happening. This odd mix of wanting, but also not wanting; of craving company but feeling very, very pricey about whose company it should be, when I am really not in any position to be choosing at this point. It’s not like there’s a buffet spread in front of me. My circle is down to 2.5 people again.
I don’t know if I’m being shy? Or if I’m feeling awkward? Because this past year has felt like five, in terms of growth and change within me. I feel like an entirely new person and much of this has been a private exploration that I have enjoyed in my own solitude. In an older time I’d be updating my friends on the daily about everything that I am thinking and feeling and going through. But that has not been the case though 2020. So I wonder if I’m guarding/hiding the person I have become over the course of this year? I know that part of the reason the journey has been so rich this past year is the absolutely minimal peer contact and “pressure”. There’s a sense of having tasted something special that I am feeling a tad greedy to let go of. I notice this in myself, and I ask myself why do I want to hide? What am I hiding? And I notice how the part that wants to hide is at direct loggerheads with a significant part that really doesn’t.
I shared the weird feeling with S on Saturday night when we caught up on a late, late zoom call. Him nursing his end of day doob, and me drinking mug after mug of hot water. Interestingly, when I described this whole saga, he said it’s how he feels every time he returns back home from wherever he is in the world. It is like reorienting to a time and space you left behind, to an older time when you were an older version of you, to a set of people who knew you differently. And there’s confusion about which way you should be, or how you will be received if you didn’t have to choose.
I know that the lack of any kind of social interaction for 10 months in-between — some forced, and honestly, some chosen, has made it somewhat worse. Thus th feeling of having to learn how to do this all over again. This time, with a frigging mask on.