Confusing Myself

I really don’t know what my problem is sometimes. I don’t like being cooped up, but at the same time, it’s often a difficult chore to bring myself to step outside. Once I’m out there, walking, going somewhere, doing whatever, it’s fine. I’m fine. And I wonder what the hell my problem was all day. Because sometimes it does take me all day to get there. At least when I’m alone.

I’m not sure it’s a fear of people, really. Most of them are very friendly, have nice smiles and say hello. Maybe it’s because I feel like just walking by myself makes me stick out. Because the people I pass on the sidewalk in my neighborhood usually have dogs leading them. Or are decked out in reflectors and running. I don’t run. I don’t have a dog on a leash. I’m just there. Walking. Alone. Without destination. Feeling like just walking alone isn’t quite enough. So I put on headphones. Sunglasses. I try to hide. Or something. I’m not sure.

I always feel like I should spend more time outside. Somewhere other than here. In the house. But I like it here. I like when I have nothing to do. Or, rather, a list of things I don’t mind doing. I like it when I get in a cleaning mood. Or a poem-submitting mood. Or a web-designing or crocheting mood. And these things I like to do, they are located here. In the house.

It’s not so bad. I just kind of wonder sometimes if maybe I’m missing out by staying indoors so much. It’s one of the things on my summer list. To go and do more things. Whether that means taking more walks, seeing more friends, or just grocery shopping by myself, I will try. And I know it will be good.


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