Always on the Periphery

Always on the periphery, looking in from the edges, but never drawing near. Get close, but not too close. Be friendly, be kind, hope it ripens into true friendship. When it looks like it could blossom, they move across the country. Why bother trying? What's the point?

The circle dwindles, ever smaller. Replacements come and go, but never stay, and the circle tightens.

Down to two stalwarts now; two couples that we've been friends with for over two decades, but even with them I'm the outsider, like they're more his friends than my friends, even though they're "our" friends. They all have common interests (if you can call an addiction to WoW an "interest"), the love of b-grade movies, the punchy humor. I'm the lone wolf, with little to connect on but a few feeble strands.

Part of the problem is my seeming lack of dimension; plenty of interests but not enough time to develop them and meet people with shared interests. The knee injury killed the karate journey (so close to brown belt!), no time for archery, or choir, or piano lessons, or book clubs, or any of the other myriad "me" things I want to do. No time, pieces of me devoted to husband, to kids, to work, to home. Not much left after that.

And so, the richness within is hidden by a bland exterior, belying the hidden depths: the humor, the caring, the wit, the passion, the intellect, the giving, the friendship that could be. Always on the periphery.