Talking to the void (mostly, at least)
I was doomscrolling through social media today when I came across a post that symphatized with people who talk 'too much'. I can't remember the exact words, but it was somewhere along the lines of "When someone talks too much, maybe they're just excited someone is finally listening." My first instinct was to think; "that's true, I have to change my perspective on people who talk too much. I don't meet them often though." Then I realized that I am, in fact, the person who talks too much.
I'm not lonely - the opposite, I'm sometimes overwhelmed by the amount of social connections and friendships I have. But something about seeing that post made me think. My friendships don't seem very... balanced. More often than not I find myself listening quietly to my friends as they talk about their lives, maybe I will say something to show that I relate or that I understand. But with very few people can I say that I get to talk myself. I almost never do the talking. And I'm not even a quiet person - I love chatting and yapping and having monologues about things I'm interested in. That's why I have this blog - to write down the weird stuff that I happen to think about. I have a lot to say, a lot of thoughts to share.
But no-one really wants to listen.
This is not really a vent post. This is more for thinking, analyzing my situation, because I only made this realization recently. I realize now that I have a lot of deep thoughts to share, so to speak, but I don't believe that anyone I know would be interested in having a conversation about those topics. They don't really care to hear about my everyday thoughts, so why would I share these random ones about my inner self? And I love my friends, I love them dearly. I love supporting them and spending time with them and all that, I just see now that our friendships are not built on the level of reciprocity I had always thought. And that's fine, at least for now.
There are friends that are different, though. Or, as of now, one friend. That friend listens, they ask questions, they bite into the topic I bring up and they talk about it with me. And my God, does that make me a chatterbox. When I talk with that friend, I go on and on and on until they have to go. It feels unbeliveably good, to be listened to. To think someone is interested in what I have to say. I feel happy, giddy, I smile and laugh a lot when I'm with them. People could probably think that I've got a crush, but it's not that. It's never been a crush. It's about feeling like I matter to someone, that my thoughts matter. I've chased that feeling in friendships for years while only rarely reaching it, and it miiiight also be the reason I feel unnecessarily fond of every medical professional ever that has listened to my symptoms and asked questions. It feels like people who listen, actually care. And somehow people like that aren't very plentiful in my life.
I also now understand why I've always had this desire to have my own blog. There's someone reading, listening, but these people are actually interested in what I have to say. I can avoid bothering my friends with my random deep discussions and share my thoughts with people who are interested in them. But at the same time, it somehow feels like talking to the void. I'm writing all this on a blank page, nobody is actually listening in real time. But still, I need an outlet, and this feels like a warm, safe way to share everything. Well, not everything, but the stuff that I've felt like sharing. The stuff that would be weird to bring up in an everyday conversation. So yeah, that's something I've been thinking about as of late.
ᯓ✧ Anon