Friday night. Alone again. I haven’t blogged much for a while, mainly because I’ve been busy – two major chunks of proofreading that kept me occupied for a while, as well as proving that the concept of proofreading while getting writing done isn’t completely impossible. There have been deadlines, and reviews to do, and book reports to write, and I’m in a situation where wage-wise, I’m at least relatively sorted until the last week of March 2009, which isn’t a bad situation to be in. But, melancholy has been rearing it’s ugly head again. It doesn’t help that there’s a bit of DIY-related uproar here, with Anna currently installing a laminate floor in the frontroom (a new fireplace has already been delivered and fitted), with the result that because the work isn’t finished, the only usable room in the lower floor of the house is the (rather small) kitchen. Also, because of my recent purchase of a new computer, I’m on an ultra-strict budget right now which means that my possibilities are, at the moment, pretty limited. I’ve got a certain amount of christmas preparation still to do, and plenty to occupy myself with…

…and I’m lonely.

Trouble is, this isn’t exactly new. Loneliness is something I’m very familiar with, mainly because there have been very, very few times in my life where I’ve actually felt like I truly belonged somewhere. I hear people sometimes describe going to a convention or entering the social side of fandom as ‘like they’d found their home’, and I can’t help but envy that sort of feeling, as a large percentage of the quirky, weird and slightly lost persona that I project to the world is simply there to hide behind, because I really find just being around people difficult sometimes. There are times when it’s easy, and there are times when it’s really, really hard – I spent most of University feeling painfully out of place, which did lead to me deliberately dropping out of touch with many people I knew from University, simply because I didn’t like who I was back then, and I didn’t want to be reminded of feeling like that. Feeling like I belong – well, before the events of 1995 which led to my parents’ divorce, I still had these feelings, but I always had home. I always had somewhere I could feel safe, where I could be me, and not feel like I was being criticised or judged. And then, the events of late 1995 happenned, and I had to move to London simply to save my sanity, and three years later my home was gone. There was no going back.

I think it’s one of the reasons why Hitch-Hikers has an odd resonance for me – because, at heart, you could say that it’s all about never being able to go home. Even when Arthur does get back to Earth, it’s only a temporary respite. (A very depressive reading of it, I know…) And I feel like that now – I have found places where I felt like I fitted, times when I really truly felt like I belonged. But they didn’t last. Things happenned, things moved on, and now I’m left, alone again, wanting to feel like I belong somewhere, and feeling afraid that it’s never going to happen again. I do feel like that right now – like I’ve ended up with a life that basically involves me being completely alone 95% of the time, and part of me hates that, and doesn’t want to be alone – but the other part of me doesn’t want to have to go through the horrible process of trying to have a social life, getting out and meeting people, the potential for things to go horribly wrong… I don’t want it. I don’t want to deal with it. I’m alone, and I wish I wasn’t, but I don’t know if I’m ever going to have enough strength to do anything about it. I didn’t want to end up 34, a lodger, living out of a single room, trying to rebuild my life. I almost think I’d rather accept the idea that I’m going to be alone than have to go through the hope of finding someone who understands me and wants to be with me, and not finding them. Or, as has just happenned, finding them and then losing them again.

It’s been a tough week. It’s been a tough month. To be honest, it’s been a tough year. And one day I’m not going to want to just curl up in a corner and hide. One day the idea of being alone isn’t going to scare me, and make me angry, and make me want to sob.

I just don’t think it’s going to happen quite yet.