Social Suicide

Me, around the age when it all started to go wrong

I stood on the pedestal on that bare stage at our all-boys’ high school, surrounded by my choir comrades and sang my heart out, trying not to be the false one, trying not to be the one fingered for being off key. And on looked the choir members from our sister school and the Afrikaans girls’ school down the road – those schools off-limits to us on a normal day, but now, oh now, what bliss, what heaven, as long as I could keep my choir-boy, angelic, alto-voice soaring the way it should...

And afterwards we sat out on the lawn in front of the imposing edifice that was my school, and chatted way into the night, waiting for everyone to be picked up by their parents. I remember going home on a cloud, amazed that one particular (Afrikaans) girl would pay attention to me, and even more amazed that it was all so natural chatting even though we were culturally so different ... and that I didn’t say anything stupid, and that my brain and heart and mouth actually stayed in sync... And that moment a quarter of a century ago was probably the last time that they did (stay in sync). I never saw her again. I don’t even recall her name.

I remember the first girl I fell madly in love with. She and I grew up seeing each other every year on holiday, and would while away our time from dawn to dusk playing in rock pools, or building sand castles or stealing Milo powder from her mom’s kitchen to eat with teaspoons out on the back steps together. In one of our annual plays (put on by us kids for our parents) when I was only about 10 and she 11, she played Beauty and I was the Beast. And she was beautiful! But as we got older and my feelings for her grew I couldn’t tell her. I would become tongue-tied, and say stupid things, and write ridiculously corny Valentine’s cards... We grew apart. Sadly, I have no idea where she is today.

I guess it’s time to admit; my life is littered with accounts like that and I suck when it comes to social interaction with girls ... that I like! I was shy, I was a loner. And mostly, when I was attracted to someone I would either become a useless blob of jelly, or would “make a move” and then just keep on a-moving until I had run so far away that they weren’t even visible on the horizon. And being a competitive runner, I did get quite good at running away...

Another of my many social inadequacies is the fact that I don’t take hints well, that I struggle to “read” a situation... Like the girl I was involved with who started backing off, waiting for my pursuit. And I, absolutely detesting game-playing, let her go. One of my friends described her as “a Bond girl”. Oops... And so, the very next lady I dated, after some time started to withdraw (looking for space to make a decision it turns out) and I pursued with all I had, using techniques that would have made the most intense stalker proud. I even followed her to two different countries. One day she, in utter desperation, said goodbye to me. She “defriended” me from Facebook and Skype and marked my mails as spam. We spoke again. Once.

Anyone who would like to give me advice on what I can change, how I can overcome my social inadequacies... please don’t. I doubt whether I’ll take the hint. I may just find the advice too depressing to contemplate. In fact, the last bit of advice from my good friend Kim (the passive observer and active commentator on many of my “soapie-clichéd” relationships) was the following well-worn saying: “If you love someone set them free. If they come back it was meant to be. If they don’t, track them down and kill them.”