distant:
1.Separate or apart in space.
2.Far removed; remote: distant lands.
3.Coming from or going to a distance: a distant sound; a distant
telephone call.
4.Far removed or apart in time: the distant past; distant events.
5.Far apart in relationship: a distant cousin.
6.Minimally similar: a distant likeness.
7.Far removed mentally: distant thoughts.
8.Aloof or chilly: a distant smile.
There are a lot of definitions of that word. Lately when I think of myself, I think of it. I am distant. I am far removed. I am aloof. I am separate. Why? I don't really have a definitive answer. It's just how I am. People say hello to me and I reply. People speak to me and I reply. Sometimes I throw in a one liner. Sometimes I offer an opinion behind a smile. I've mentioned this before. I'm nice but not friendly. People mistake if you are not friendly as you are not nice, or even worse, that you're an a-hole. My dad was like this. He was a good man, good heart and good natured. But he wouldn't speak to a soul if he didn't have to. I've discovered I'm a lot like him. I think I'm a softer version. I'll smile a little easier than he did. I'll joke a little quicker. I'm not quite as stubborn. I won't hide that I'm a dork as well or as hard. Not to say that my father was a dork, but he held everything close to his vest, while I hold thoughts and words close to me, but not my spirit. My youthful heart is often displayed through silly t-shirts, silly glasses, silly hats, etc. That's where I have part of my Mom in me. She's a big kid in a lot of ways, and so am I. She's incredibly nice, always wanting to help even if you have told her that you don't need help or even if she has no idea how to help you. I'm glad to have picked up some of their qualities and glad to have learned which ones to avoid (smoking and drinking to solve their problems for instance).
But that's me in the corner. The quiet person who doesn't feel it's necessary to talk to everyone in the room. I'm sure some of those people in the room are good people, but I don't care. I might meet a few, but life to me is anything but a popularity contest. To me life is made up of necessary things and simple pleasures. Occasionally this is a contradiction, but so am I. In some ways I know I come off as icy and cold, but it's just my exterior. Think of steak, when it's nearly charred and tough on the outside but soft and juicy on the inside. Wait, bad example. Let's see, something better... okay I have it; looks can be deceiving. I'll go with that. It's a classic. It's been said so often over the years that there must be something to it. So to summarize the babble: Eddie= hard candy shell, chocolatey goodness inside.
So if you see me out there somewhere and I look distant and removed from the crowd, I am. It doesn't mean I hate people or should be perceived as a mean guy, or even worse a total weirdo. It doesn't mean you can't approach me and talk to me. It may be just the trick to melt down my icy exterior. But chances are I won't seek out companionship or conversations. I'm shy, withdrawn and stuck in Eddieland. Eddieland's not a bad place. I live there, so I suppose I'm biased but I really like it there. In Eddieland a lot of things are funny. There's an abundance of ideas about everything. There's a lot of passion and hope. There's a lot of silliness and enthusiasm. It's not perfect though. Like anywhere else there's a few imperfections. There's a bit of indecision, a smidge of emotional pain and a large amount of fear. Thankfully there's an equal amount of love too. Eddieland is love. That's why love is the only way to get in. I've only opened the doors one time in my life... for the one person I've ever loved. Distance kept us apart for much of the time we were together. Not emotional distance but actual physical distance. So she didn't get to go on all the rides in Eddieland before our relationship ended. The only time I ever opened the doors to my being the person eventually wanted out, so if I seem skittish in opening up to people, it's because of the fear. When I venture outside my world I lose much of the control.
In my world I have a lot more control, a lot more comfort. That's why it's very hard to interact with others in the really real world. I'd rather stay in my own place most of the time like when you wake up on a cold winter morning. The only thought you have is that it feels great under the covers. You want to stay warm and snug under those covers for a few more minutes, then a few more. Then you start to wish you could call your kitchen and get room service. That's what it's like in my world. It's so comfy and right, I almost don't want to leave. But then the realities of a lonely soul impress their will upon me. Eddieland is a great place, but maybe there's a better place out there. Maybe if I merged Eddieland with someone else's world I could find an even greater place to spend my time. To find a wonderful place like that, it takes work. That takes going out into the area I fear to be. So I go out into the world, ever watchful, ever hopeful yet easily hurt. I wander around quietly. I'm confused and curious. I'm afraid yet daring. This place seems so familiar, yet it seems so distant.