No Kim is an Island

Since my later years in college, I have gotten into the habit of disappearing off the radar for weeks, even months at a time. In this country where even the manong magmamangga owns a cellphone which probably costs more than a month of his earnings, I’ve even gotten as far as not using my mobile for three months. It’s a feat (If I were Jason Bourne hiding from CIA assasins, which I am obviously not otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this blog.) but it’s not one I’m proud of.

When it started it was just because I needed time alone, to feed the monster which had become my sadness, and to figure out who I am, and what I really wanted. After that, there was always an excuse – my feasib, my diet, the gym, my family going at each other’s necks, or my pocketbook. I can honestly say, at this point my “me time” has become my comfort zone. And that’s fine, it’s prepared me for that solo flight backpacking trip I’ve been planning for the longest time.

But it has a downside too.

I’ve become too comfortable with being alone that more often than not I haven’t bothered to nurture my relationships outside of my family. I forget birthdays (forgivable because I tend to forget even my parents’ birthdays), bail from events at a drop of a hat (a result of my moodiness or random whims), won’t bother to send an email, and can’t even spare a measely hour for the courtesy beer. It’s selfishness really, and now I realize, all the moments I’ve missed have compounded into this one big void which should have been my experiences.

We rarely think of our friendships in the same way we do our romantic relationships, but in reality they need the same elements in order to work. Time, trust, sensitivity, a good ear, and effort. It’s about time I put in some of those.