One girl’s quest to not be so fucking lonely

As I type this, I’m sitting in an artisanal coffee shop – hipster, non-brand-name, you know the type – eavesdropping on the conversation of two girls about my age who are next to me, nursing iced coffee and wearing near-identical outfits. (Lots of denim. Maybe it’s back in – was it ever out?)

From what I can glean, Girl #1 recently went through a break-up and is apparently “crying every day.” She has an intriguing habit of emitting shocks of laughter after uttering the most worrisome statements you ever heard in your life (see: crying every day). Girl #2 is laughing politely, but she seems more subdued and less chatty than Girl #1.

But all this is somewhat beside the point. What I’m really eavesdropping on is the general tone of their conversation, or more specifically, what makes their conversation enjoyable to them? Because if I can crack this code, maybe I can crack the broader code of trying to get people to hang out with me. Because it’s fucking hard.

I have been trying to make adult friends ever since I graduated college. First there was a grad school, which was pretty much a dud: it was the kind of school where we all had day jobs and were so fucking exhausted by the time of our night classes that we just had no patience for chatting after class. Or at least, I didn’t.

Then I joined a few clubs, since that’s the classic advice. That didn’t really work out either for me, or if I met people who wanted to be my friend, they gave off a certain air of desperation that I found very unattractive. (Perhaps I give the same vibe?) I joined improv, a writer’s circle, dance class… nothing. Nada. Zilch. People just left after class or meeting, rather than sticking around to talk.

And finally, I was pathetic enough to sign up for Bumble BFF, a hellscape of likeminded losers who can’t make friends IRL trying awkwardly to bond over common interests like “Netflix.” Inevitably, those relationships would peter out, because they never had a very strong foundation to begin with. Turns out liking Taylor Swift isn’t really the secret to finding a long-lost sister.

Inevitably, those relationships would peter out, because they never had a very strong foundation to begin with.

At this point, I’m so deadened inside that I’m not bringing my best to meeting new people. I alternate between extremely shy and agreeable in a bid to be inoffensive, and standoffish and rude in a bid to be more “myself” and less people-please-y. I can’t seem to modulate correctly.

I’m sure I’ll update more on this journey as I try again and again to make new friends. But for now, I just wanted to vent a little. Thank GOD no one I know is actually reading this.