No-one wants to Know Me

No-one has ever wanted to know me. Not my friends, family or ex-girlfriends. People who have some interest in me, either have superficial interest, because I’m related to them by blood or by destiny, or because they find me fascinating in some way, yet too weird to really want to know. Either that or they project their wishes onto me, who or what I should be in their minds.

I wouldn’t say that I’m that boring either. Some people have found me interesting because I see things different from most, or simply because I look different. Some have even claimed I’m good looking, but even if I am, it hasn’t helped much with the opposite sex. A month or two ago I was clubbing with some friends. Around five o’clock in the evening a couple of girls were talking to a friend of mine. I walked in and immediately one of the girls said I’m just her type, that she wants me to be her boyfriend. At first I thought she was kidding or just fucking with me, but I played along politely. It turned out she was serious. We spent talking a few hours, I became interested in her too. We agreed we’d meet again the next day.

We exchanged a few messages on Facebook. We agreed to meet the next day, however the next morning she had blocked me on Facebook. She didn’t answer my calls or anything. It didn’t take too long to figure out she had changed her mind. I was disappointed but not too surprised. If we had met again maybe it would’ve been nice. However, maybe it was for the better. If I had done things differently, I was fairly reserved the whole time I was with her since I wasn’t sure about her intentions. Besides I thought her friend was prettier than she was. I didn’t expect a relationship that starts off so suddenly at five in the morning to last. Turned out I was right. However it could have been a self-fulfilling prophecy. If I had been more open-hearted with her, maybe she wouldn’t have dumped almost as fast as she became interested in me. The might have beens and could have been isn’t the point though.

The point is she thought I was her dream man when she saw me, but after she got to know me a bit I was no longer. There are various factors involved of course, like she was drunk when she met me, as I was, and sober when she dumped me. She was interested in an image of a guy that already existed in her head, not me. I merely reminded her of him for a while.

Most people who have contact with me either project their prejudices onto me, be they positive or negative, or sense I am somehow different and either avoid me or observe with curiosity.

I’m not the most unique magical indigo child in the world, but I wouldn’t say I represent the average guy, the average Finn, or an average human very well. Most other people seem more alike their friends and they get along with each other better. Like likes like. At least that’s how it looks to me. I’m not really alike anyone I know, so it always separates me from others.

The question is do those other people know themselves really, is it easy for them to do so if they are more alike? Or perhaps they are not so alike deep-down, but they adopt a common basis for action to feel connected to each other? What about me? Do I really want to know others, or just some superficial level. I’d say that for a lot of people I’m just not interested in knowing them deeper. They don’t seem interesting enough. But for some people I know I’ve at least tried understanding them. Maybe they haven’t been interested in my attention, or my interest has also been superficial.


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