Misfit, redux

There's an empty chair at our house today. A friend I haven't seen in weeks was supposed to come over for a chat and iced coffee or home-made limeade. Well, actually the plan was originally to go on a mini-adventure together but we couldn't get our schedules lined up. Even with the simplified plan I was really looking forward to our time together. Puddin' and I planned our activities and play around her expected arrival time, which came and went without a word. I feel like I've been stood up on a Friday night.

I didn't have a good social life in high school. Not many teenagers like to talk philosophically about life and religion and body humor has never had appeal for me. I spent most of my weekends babysitting or home watching movies with my parents. Mostly I was ok with the situation - I didn't have much in common with my peers - but occasionally I'd feel the need to do something about it. I'd meet someone who seemed to have more depth than the average teen or who had enough quirks that maybe mine wouldn't matter much. It never took long for the cautious optimism to turn to deflated loneliness.

I don't feel that way much anymore. Stan doesn't like words nearly as much as I do but he's often willing to talk things through with me for a while. His analytic brain adds needed grounding for my philosophical ramblings. We're intrigued by some of the same big ideas and problems. We're a good match and together we don't feel like the misfits we're sometimes perceived to be. I like to think I've outgrown my awkwardness but situations like the one today make me think I'm wrong.

I know this friend likes me and values time with me. I recognize that her life is full and demanding. I understand that her life - unattached and artistic - requires a different schedule than raising a toddler does. I'm also quite sure we'll get together again soon. In the meantime I'm soothing my wounded pride with carrot cake. Speaking of which - I've got enough to share and would love to have some company. Come on over!