Separation in the time of coronavirus

We hear someone talk. Listen to their choice of words. How they articulate their thoughts and feelings. And, maybe 1 in every 200 times* something clicks. Something makes you think “this is someone I'd enjoy talking to.” Not just listening to. Someone you'd like to converse with. You want to hear what they have to say... but you want to hear their thoughts about what you're saying, too. You think you'd value their input and perspective.

But then the doubts creep in and that inner voice tells you that it's all in your head. That, while you may find what you know of them and what they've said interesting and entertaining, should you ever enter a conversation, that feeling wouldn't be reciprocated. And I don't mean romantically. But just excited to be in that conversation. To learn new things, hear new stories. Share thoughts. Engaging rapport. Mental stimulation.

I can think of a handful of times I've felt that instant click. Generally, I find a way to follow through and have a conversation with the person. And I'm usually rewarded. For a while, anyway. I think I have decent instincts for this. Or have in the past. Until things blow up, or die a slow death. But I've never been one to believe that all things do, or should, last indefinitely.

But now we have covid. And the isolation. And, for me, my inherent disdain for small talk. I hate superficial conversations. I can do them. But the ones I'm part of are painful for everyone, I think, including me. I prefer substance over quantity. But how else do you open that door when you think it might be worth it? And how in the hell is that possible when you already know too much, but really nothing about that person (because... internet). Someone who knows nothing about you, but yet you believe that it could be worth it, and could possibly lead to a real connection? There's no real-world basis for that thought. It's all that inner voice, telling you that you're not making it up, and only emphasizing the whys of it being plausible — and not the why-nots. And it's so one-sided. And the rational part of your head knows this. But the hopeful part. That bit that remembers the joy of having conversations that weren't just fluff. Remembers the endorphin high of making a true friend. That little nagging bitch who tells you to put yourself out there. But then recedes and takes your courage with her as you try. Sigh.

And this is where I am now. Knowing too much and not enough about someone because of any number of things. Hearing them speak in person, and in interviews. Seeing some of their actions. Reading into things that are said. Knowing only a small slice about their life and what they do. And repeatedly telling myself that my brain is filling in the gaps with what it wants to believe — not reality. Desperately trying, and not often succeeding, in not making an ass of myself as I try to translate fictional conversations in my head into real-world conversations with someone who's never met me. Trying to rein in thoughts that want to tumble out of my mouth when anywhere in their vicinity.

I've tried to acknowledge and write it off as a mid-life crush (less romantic, but similarly idealized). An intellectual attraction that has no basis in anything. It's a strange feeling of kinship. Of commonality — when there really is no concrete reason to feel it. It's completely, and utterly one-sided. We could have a conversation tomorrow that could kill all these thoughts and feelings, and cremate them with a finality that no one would question. I just don't think that would be the case.

I guess that's one of the biggest things. I just want to know. Am I so wrong about this that my instinct and judgement is always to be questioned going forward? Or did I get it right? That given the chance, we'd truly enjoy talking with each other. That underlying motivation is a common theme for me: I just want to know. I'm sure it's mostly tied to ego. But I think it's also just my default setting. It drives me in work. In my personal life. In learning how to fix things. In finding out more about people. It's why I love reading. And looking things up. Unearthing the details. I want to know if I was right. And if not... Why not. What did I misinterpret?

And so, in real life... I'm left with awkward half-interactions, as my courage falters and doubt prevails. I repeatedly set myself up for failure and disappointment. And whine about it in an anonymous blog. How cowardly. And on brand. Hah!

To top it off, earlier in the year, I actually acted on a smaller scale version of this, and became friends with the most unlikely of opposites. I don't know that it's a deep and abiding friendship. But for what it is, it's perfect and provides moments of connection and laughter. We chat for a few minutes most days. We have almost nothing in common. But the easy conversation is there — and I can't say I was surprised by this. It's something I felt would happen after just a couple short interactions. We share the latest about our families. And our frustrations. It's been a pleasant bonus, brought about by covid, of all things. And why was I able to make this possible (without all the self-doubt and dithering), and yet I find myself doubting and holding back with the other situation? Simple. I feel there's more at stake. Even though it's all in my head.

So... if you've made it this far, and you need a mental cleanse... And if you've got any level of appreciation for folk, roots rock, old school harmonica, or if you're just curious about the music I've been running around northern New England to hear (see previous blog entry), check out one of our local bands – The Jason Spooner Band. Maybe it'll help you get out of your head for a bit, too.

*Maybe this happens more often for others. For me, it's a fucking rare event.