day 11295: ants in my pants, why i don’t love you like you love me and why i wonder why i’m not screwed up even more than i already am
I moved around a lot as a child. As the experimental older child, my parents would listen to other parents expound enthusiastically over the merits of certain school systems and switch me over on a whim. By the time I started high school, I had already switched schools 8 times. I went to two different high schools, and then attended a university with a co-op program where I packed up everything and moved every 4 months.
Needless to say, consistency wasn’t a big part of my childhood and I learned to adapt to change quickly. At school, I was smart, but not too smart. I was funny, but not too funny. I coasted because school was easy, but didn’t put in enough effort to become outstanding. I did what I could to be like everyone else and not be too different from my peers. Being the new kid on the block all the time meant being an easy target.
I grew up a stranger. I had many friends, but not many great friends. My best friends were family and Al from grade four who actually made a couple of the moves with me. It was easy for me to meet people, but not easy for me to make the emotional commitment necessary for a lasting friendship. After all, by this time next year, there was only a slim possibility of my being in the same school and chances were that the good byes that were said on the last day of the school year would be good-bye forever.
It’s easy to blame things on the past. I don’t like change, but I crave it. Every few months, I still feel the need to up and move. I absolutely hate commitment. I coast along, don’t like making long term plans, and my career and my relationships with people have suffered. It’s hard to look towards a future when you feel like you should always be on the move. I’ve spent thirty years living for the present.