The Birth of Solitarius

My self imposed emotional exile had become habit.

To the outside world, I was the same old guy I had always been.

Inside, I was closed off and distrustful.

Nothing and nobody got close to me.

I was good for going to movies with. I was good for a couple beers.

I was good to talk to about YOUR problems.

Friendship involves a give and take. You give support, you take comfort. You trust your friends, they trust you.

I was half a friend. I could listen to other people's problems and offer compassion.

I didn't feel I was worthy of it in return.

So, I was alone, in a crowd of people.

People that moved in and out of my life like extras on a movie screen. I was a one man show, using other people to move the plot along.

I suppose I got this way as a defense. I had suffered a life-changing catastrophy in the loss of May. Cheryl had kicked me when I was still down.

Nothing good comes from letting other people in. The only person I can count on is me. Everybody else is just strangers.

This, I believe, is when I started not liking other people, just as a rule of thumb.