It’s been awhile since I blogged, but for that I make no apologies. Life gets busy and inherently stuff like blogging tends to go by the wayside as a biproduct. But during this time I can’t help but feel like something was missing. Inherently blogging is something that is a part of me, something that I’ve done for over 6 years now, so I obviously have lots of time and effort invested in it.

Now really the point of this blog was something that my wife said to me yesterday that kinda cut deep. She said that she had talked with people previously and that they had mentioned how they didn’t really actually know me, or what made me tick. For some reason this bit of information left me unsettled, as it’s not something I’ve ever really considered. Per say I’ve long viewed myself as an open book. I’ve had a blog since 2004 and have used Twitter since 2008, so I felt that I quite often shared good portions of my life with those willing to listen. I know online it’s very easy to editorialize your life and gloss over parts you don’t want to expose while highlighting the good parts. And really I’m only exposing my life to those who wish to follow me through social media and not too much farther.

It just got me thinking that maybe I have editorialized my life a bit too much, to the point that nobody actually knows who I am. I’m a person that is generally well liked, I make friends easily and don’t tend to cause much drama or wish to rock the boat too much. I seem to be at a point in my life where I have million friends, but very few actually close friends. Most people who I would have considered close confidants from my early-20s are gone, either moved away, or having drifted in different directions in life. This change is also a biproduct of getting into a relationship and inherently happens to everyone.

The realization I’ve had is that it really is true. Very few people actually know me and actually understand what makes me tick. I think the reality of the situation is that I’ve rarely in the last 5-10 years put out the effort required to forge lasting friendships with people. Making friends was so easy that I’d typically just make more friends instead of putting the effort at maintaining friendships, which only compounds the problem. Having lots of friends is great, but it tends to spread you too thin. Instead of spending quality time with people I find I’ll get together in group situations where you get to see lots of friends. And every time I hang out with friends I haven’t seen in awhile there is always that pang of guilt at the fact I don’t get to see them more often and spend actual quality time.

Ideally I think everyone in this world wishes they had more free time, more flexibility and the ability to hang out with friends more often. The problem is that as people move forward in life their lives get more insular. I recall this phenomena from when I was a teenager. We used to always pile into a buddy’s parents car to go places. There were always rules and restrictions on the car, be it a curfew or where you could drive to. I recall saying, and I paraphrase “When I get a car we’ll go everywhere, do everything. It’ll be awesome!”. But what happens is you and your friends start getting their own cars and everyone wants to drive themselves. It becomes the opposite of the teenage dream, you now have the freedom to go anywhere, but now you own a car and worry about the wear and tear of having all your friends in the car. And now you have a car payment, insurance and gas to worry about, so you don’t have the freedom you once thought you’d have. The exact same pattern happens as you move out of your parents house into a rental, or buy your own house. The freedom you envisioned to have parties all the time is tempered by all the costs of being self sufficient and living independently.

This all just makes me wonder, have I been doing it wrong? Have I been making friends, but not actually making friends? Am I just someone that people like to have around, but not someone who is of any consequence to their lives? Questions I myself don’t have answers for.

I hate writing woe is me kind of blog posts, but I just felt the need for some brutal honesty. Honesty I’m not sure I’ve often let myself show online.