Rainy Saturdays call for over-sized t-shirts and tea.
Sometimes I think being a woman can be a lonely thing. I’m well aware of how pretentious that most likely sounds, but it’s a thought that’s been banging about my brains lately. You see, I’m not generally keen on doing things such as running around after spherical objects whilst slamming into others, sweating and swearing, contrary to many of my male counterparts. I don’t usually gather with other girls in the name of competition or developing biceps. What I’m saying is it can be a challenge to find something a group of us women might enjoy, to find a way to get us all together in the same general area at the same time.
And even when I do find myself in a room full of members of the same sex, I have a hard time avoiding going home exhausted from pretending, feeling rejected by my own species. Because what is the point of spending hour upon hour discussing hair color, forcing laughter, gravitating to gossip regarding whatever girl couldn’t make it that night? And yet I know that I need other women in my life. Regardless, I can’t keep from wondering, why is it so difficult to find someone to have an actual conversation with about actual things?
Since when and at what point did my entire life become small talk?
The simple truth of the matter is that I’d rather be alone than pretend. There is no lonelier feeling than being in the company of someone who doesn’t understand what’s at your core – The actual substance that makes you up. I can say that I’ve always been good at keeping myself company. I only wish that the necessity of human interaction could come so easily.