Or so I said to the nut hatch woman. A nice lady with glasses on the end of her nose and a ready laugh for all my Chris King's Hit Parade jokes. She's a keeper; maybe I'll stick with her.
"I just can't seem to commune with your species. I can't make a connection. It's like everyone got born with 3-D glasses, but mine had one lens missing. We're not connecting because we're not seeing things the same way. There is some fundamental disconnect, so I can't seem to commune with anyone, so I get lonely, and I start to hate myself and I get nasty and combative, which just causes me to be unattractive, ensuring my isolation, and the cycle continues.
"I don't want to watch TV with you, I do not want to play video games with you or watch football with you. I mean, I want to do those things with someone, but not before my basic needs of communion are met. I need someone who's on the same page already. I need someone who understands what I'm talking about."
But just now I realized that it's not I who is missing the lens. I have both lenses. I am seeing things in their full dimension. It's everyone else who is missing a lens. And I know that that's the easy answer, that it's everyone else's fault.
But what if it is? Why should I automatically assume that it's my fault?
I think that at the end of my expensive therapy sessions, the answer is going to come down to this: that I am a red-pill man in a blue-pill world. I am lonely because I am unable to commune with those who are asleep.
Ultimately, the nut hatch woman will take off her glasses, close her notepad and issue her apology: "I'm sorry, Chris, but there's nothing I can do for you. You're the sanest fucker in this place."