Silence, Like Fine Wine

I guess I talk too much. I mean, I know I'm going to get yelled at about this post. I know that the people that read it are going to roll their eyes, groan and chock it up to another "me-being-me" moment. Also, since this is me "talking" about talking too much, it's fitting for the jibes to be " You even talk too much about talking too much."

I have some interesting relationships with my friends lately. I feel like I've done well to adapt to the dynamic of the various people that are willing to spend time with me. There are those that are simple, just time spent in any capacity is good time and taken as such. There are those that are complex, an effort to maintain relations with but well worth it and never less important because of the effort. There are those that are harsh. That friendship exists behind a wall of harsh comments and jibes, which I myself partake in quite naturally, being as extroverted as I am. There are the challenging ones, the ones that call me out on being who I am, make me realize things about myself.

I think the problem with me, internally, lately, has been one of combinations. For instance, the harsh/challenging friends actually hurt sometimes without realizing it. I would never make it a point because I know it's my own thing. I know most of this post is, in fact, no need to point that out. So sometimes, when the jabs come, in combination with the challenging, in succession, from more than one person, then yeah, it hurts. Maybe, though, it's supposed to hurt a little. Perhaps examining the actual reasons for the comment, jab, challenge will help me in the long run. In the short run, though, I go "ugh" internally.

Like I said, I dish it out too. I expect the sarcasm, the jabs, the constant banter with those challenging or harsh or even complex personalities I cherish in my life. It keeps me on my toes. It keeps me feeling alive. In that context, though, boundaries get crossed. I know i've done it myself. I can almost see it sometimes, when I step too far with a jab or push one comment over the edge of "banter" and into the realm of "ouch". It's a hard game to play, a hard line to walk. So there is nothing in me that says "They're mean, I hate them" when someone steps over a boundary. They probably didn't know they did, and since they are so close to me, and since I know the boundary myself, it shouldn't be an issue.

Sometimes, though, it gets to be. One thing I dislike about the world in general is double standards. I have a whole set of my own. I hate them and am always angry when I see one come to light. So, that means, I also don't like it when they come to light from other people. That's what I feel like sometimes about this whole "you talk too much" business.

I'm loud, boisterous. Don't expect me to be that way and then, when you're "done" just expect it to shut off. Especially not in social situations. I'm just who I am.

I guess the moral of the story is that for all of my jabbing and taking jabs, sometimes, in what should be a non-contact sport, a blow gets landed accidentally. I take it the best I can. But when the same blow lands, the lack of self confidence and confidence in my ability to be worthy of my friends kicks in. Like I said, this is mostly my shit. Blogger is for therapy.

If you think I don't know silence, you don't know me very well. I have my silence, I have my time to be with myself, apart from the world and quiet. I look at my extroverted self and think of it as every day fare, a beer with lunch or casual drinks with friends. But silence, to me, is a fine wine. To be had when the time is right, savored and cherished for it's worth. I know silence well, we are old and intimate friends. Just because I don't mention her very much, doesn't mean she not a part of me.