I live in a small town. I work in an even smaller town. The kinds of places where the teller knows your name at the bank. The kinds of places where people were born and raised. Nobody moves into these towns. People spend their lives trying to find a way out of towns like these. Except us.
We moved into this town almost five years ago now. I've been working in the other town for two and a half years. This place feels like home, but the tellers still don't know my name at the bank. We still don't have friends that we can invite over to dinner or to play cards. We don't know anyone who can help us move heavy tree limbs when we need to. We don't know anyone who will plow our driveway out of kindness.
I know a lot of our not "connecting" has to do with our circumstances...I lost my job, I had a baby, I got a new job, I had a dead baby. Not a lot going on there that really entices people to be your friend. Nobody wants to hang with the depressing chick and her family. But you know what's sort of funny? I've started to collect friends who are just as, if not more, depressing than me. The gal that works in my office who suddenly wants to spend some time together now that she's left her husband. The guy who works in my office who suddenly wants to chat because his friend no longer works in our office and whose wife lost her job.
Does the whole world have to be miserable in order to want to spend time with me?