The Yearbook Office
Writings on staying alive

The truth is that if it were up to me, we would hang out all the time, every single night, and text or e-mail or call each other in-between.

If I seem any other way, it is because I fully recognize how our friendship works and I am trying my hardest not to go overboard with needy attention-seeking. If left to my devices, I would be overbearing and clingy in a minute, and so a firm amount of distance must be kept.

If we live in the same city, I am generally not going to ask you to do things because I know you already have plans and do not want to intrude. I know my place. I know that I need you in a way that you do not need me.

And as much as I constantly want to be spending time with you, I know that I am not that friend. I know that you have those friends already, have had them for a long time now (or maybe not even after you got married), and I am not one of them. I recognize that I am a tourist in your life. A house guest. A passing fancy.

I also realize that if I want to hang out all the time, never asking people to hang out with me is probably the worst way to go about it. But I do not want to screw up the delicate balance that makes up our friendship. I do not want to come off as too desperate.

Because we both know I am desperate. I know that it hangs around my neck like an albatross, the desperation dripping from every calculated word I say when we are together. I thank you that you are willing to overlook this and still keep me around. Your generosity is what keeps me going.

I know that I can be a lot to handle in-person. That I am best handled in small doses, usually over the internet. Look, I can barely stand being around myself, I have no idea how other people manage. I get it.

If you are in another city, when you come and visit my town I will not ask if we should hang out because I know you already have plans. We both know that I live here and if you want to see me, you can summon me. I have nothing else going on.

I know that if you live far away, I will come to visit you when I want to see you and never the opposite. The burden is on me, being the one desperate for human contact, and I accept it.

I know that the party starts long before I get there and will continue going long after I leave. I know that I should be grateful to have been invited at all and I hope you know that I am. That I am grateful you tolerate me at all, and that we are friends, but not more and I totally respect that boundary and am trying my best not to overstep it.

And under no circumstances do I expect you to continue putting up with me. I get it. We all have busy lives, we have to make the time for the people we care about and I probably do not make the cut. You cannot hurt my feelings, I barely like myself so I can hardly blame others for feeling the same way.

I appreciate that you took the time to read this. I thank you for stooping to my level of narcissism and selfishness that it takes to say this. I know that we both know all of this, but I certainly feel better that we took the time to clear it up.