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Monday, March 29, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
I'm not the great communicator that I thought I was
I haven't felt compelled to write anything for a good long while now, but coming face to face with a childhood friend with whom I haven't talked since elementary school (about 10 years) made me feel all sorts of strange things that I had to get out. To clarify, by face to face, I mean we were sitting across from each other in the BU student union in a fashion where I could just stare at him but he couldn't see me - maybe that stare-sesh is what got me thinking about this issue more seriously. This isn't by any means the first time I've seen him or been aware that we attend the same university, but it's the first time that my inability to walk up to him and say, "Kevin? Kevin Chang?!" all cliche-like has really bugged me.
Some background info: Way back when I was a mere element, I went to a pretty small elementary school. My class was about 25 kids, and I was basically friends with everyone - I had yet to grow into the harsh, judgmental, and selective boob I am now. My friendship with Kevin was similar to my friendship with most of the others: we played sports after school, played Pokemon during school, and played video games together whenever we had a chance. Ah simple pleasures. Kevin, like several other good friends at my school, moved before we could grow up together, so our relationship reached a stasis (we never tried to stay in touch). The only unique memory I can conjure up is running through his house wearing roller blades wielding water guns with which (to the dismay of his parents) we assaulted each other - and that was awesome.
Though that may be a funny and positive memory, and though we may have had a fun and positive relationship when we were little, I cannot muster up whatever courage it takes to talk to him today. Maybe it's because I know I'll have another chance to talk to him - I know I won't necessarily take that chance, but at least it's something I can comfort myself with. But isn't there something really... wrong here?
Probing the matter deeper, I recalled how I even came to know that this is my Kevin Chang. Around the end of high school, me and many of my fellow Orchard alumni received a friend request from him - I personally received what I just now dubbed a "silent friend request": one where the person friends but declines to send a personalized message like "Hey it's been 10 years what the fuck is going onnnn???" or something in that vein. Regardless, it thrilled me since facebook was nothing more than a tool to keep tabs on the people I saw regularly - now I could keep tabs on people I actually need facebook to keep tabs on. Unfortunately, that was the last interaction (if you could call it that) we've had, electronic or persontronic. At some point after I transferred and joined the BU network, I realized Kevin was among the very few people I knew at BU - omg. So I sent him a message telling him we were ironically attending the same school again, but I never got a response. Any effort to meet up with him ended there - I still see him around campus but I don't even try.
Back to the present: staring at the subject of this blogpost, asking myself "What's so hard?" And I'm unsatisfied with every answer I give myself. I play the conversation out in my head (as I'm prone to do): what I'll open up with, how I'll greet him (does he deserve a hug? tears?), dispel any notions that I'm a stalker by offhandedly letting him know I've flipped through volumes of his facebook photos in order to recognize him, even how I could dissolve the conversation in case of awkward silences. How sad that I don't even trust my own conversational skills with the task of talking with an old friend. I mean, I don't know anything that he's into or what kind of person he is compared to the future-megalomaniac me and my classmates made him out to be back in the day, but I do know that he remembers me (and hopefully rollerblade-watergun fights in his house too - that's another thing we can discuss!) so what do I need to actually feel comfortable walking up to him and reuniting?
Did the e-snubs I experienced dampen the prospect of talking with him again? Would I be so hesitant to talk to Stephen Demetrius or Marilisa Ciciercha or John Vagiano or Bjorn Wanchoo? Does the fact that I've seen him around campus so much and had this sad sad deliberation only make me less inclined to walk up to him and say hi? I don't know, but instances like these make me feel like 100% pussy, and they are certainly not few and far between.
Anybody else on the blogosphere write self-loathing blogposts? Maybe we should meet. Maybe.
Some background info: Way back when I was a mere element, I went to a pretty small elementary school. My class was about 25 kids, and I was basically friends with everyone - I had yet to grow into the harsh, judgmental, and selective boob I am now. My friendship with Kevin was similar to my friendship with most of the others: we played sports after school, played Pokemon during school, and played video games together whenever we had a chance. Ah simple pleasures. Kevin, like several other good friends at my school, moved before we could grow up together, so our relationship reached a stasis (we never tried to stay in touch). The only unique memory I can conjure up is running through his house wearing roller blades wielding water guns with which (to the dismay of his parents) we assaulted each other - and that was awesome.
Though that may be a funny and positive memory, and though we may have had a fun and positive relationship when we were little, I cannot muster up whatever courage it takes to talk to him today. Maybe it's because I know I'll have another chance to talk to him - I know I won't necessarily take that chance, but at least it's something I can comfort myself with. But isn't there something really... wrong here?
Probing the matter deeper, I recalled how I even came to know that this is my Kevin Chang. Around the end of high school, me and many of my fellow Orchard alumni received a friend request from him - I personally received what I just now dubbed a "silent friend request": one where the person friends but declines to send a personalized message like "Hey it's been 10 years what the fuck is going onnnn???" or something in that vein. Regardless, it thrilled me since facebook was nothing more than a tool to keep tabs on the people I saw regularly - now I could keep tabs on people I actually need facebook to keep tabs on. Unfortunately, that was the last interaction (if you could call it that) we've had, electronic or persontronic. At some point after I transferred and joined the BU network, I realized Kevin was among the very few people I knew at BU - omg. So I sent him a message telling him we were ironically attending the same school again, but I never got a response. Any effort to meet up with him ended there - I still see him around campus but I don't even try.
Back to the present: staring at the subject of this blogpost, asking myself "What's so hard?" And I'm unsatisfied with every answer I give myself. I play the conversation out in my head (as I'm prone to do): what I'll open up with, how I'll greet him (does he deserve a hug? tears?), dispel any notions that I'm a stalker by offhandedly letting him know I've flipped through volumes of his facebook photos in order to recognize him, even how I could dissolve the conversation in case of awkward silences. How sad that I don't even trust my own conversational skills with the task of talking with an old friend. I mean, I don't know anything that he's into or what kind of person he is compared to the future-megalomaniac me and my classmates made him out to be back in the day, but I do know that he remembers me (and hopefully rollerblade-watergun fights in his house too - that's another thing we can discuss!) so what do I need to actually feel comfortable walking up to him and reuniting?
Did the e-snubs I experienced dampen the prospect of talking with him again? Would I be so hesitant to talk to Stephen Demetrius or Marilisa Ciciercha or John Vagiano or Bjorn Wanchoo? Does the fact that I've seen him around campus so much and had this sad sad deliberation only make me less inclined to walk up to him and say hi? I don't know, but instances like these make me feel like 100% pussy, and they are certainly not few and far between.
Anybody else on the blogosphere write self-loathing blogposts? Maybe we should meet. Maybe.
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