I need to develop some social life here, I think, to gain me a little bit of an anchor, to reduce the alien loneliness I feel towards this alien city. I’m going along to language classes, but whilst they do give me contact with different people, which is important, they don’t give me social space.

 

I’m reconnecting with the scene, although I don’t hold out too much hope there. I was quite involved in the UK, but generally unable to settle. The exception was Norwich, which I remember as buoyant and rather joyful. I’ve been to one event here, which was uninvolving. I’m going along to the same again tonight, writ large, which I expect to be uninvolving again. But where else can I be open?

 

Being social has never been one of my strengths. Oh, in a small group I can release my humour and strike a few jelly splats, but in a larger group I strike silent. Humour is a wonderful act, but a false one.

 

The reason why I’m doing this is annoyingly familiar. The last couple of months have been a little difficult. I’ve grown rather too fond of someone, with her encouragement, probably unintentional encouragement. I need to grow unfond again; my fondness is unwelcome and unwanted.

 

This is not exactly a new experience; indeed, it’s the reaction I’ve generally received throughout my life. I’m encouraged to get close, I approach, she sees, doesn’t like, and I become unwelcome. It’s unpleasant, it’s always unpleasant, but, well, it’s life. I just wish the encouragement wouldn’t happen.

 

It’s rather depressing, if entirely sensible, that the dinner I was supposed to be having with A tonight has quite deliberately not been mentioned by either of us. I’d rather things were different, but she prefers the bank with the balance in, quite unsurprisingly.