In high school, I was extremely social. I was student class vice president, I volunteered for a non-profit organization, I was editor of my school’s yearbook, and I was captain of my ultimate frisbee team. Oh, and I had a pretty active social life.

Now I know what you’re probably going to say: I was this involved because I wanted to pump up my high school resume in order to get into a great school.

While this statement is absolutely true, it doesn’t negate the fact that once I was got into the swing of things I enjoyed nearly every second of it (and I was slightly overwhelmed, but hey, I made it).

Nevertheless, as I am wrapping up my senior year of my undergrad I cannot help but feel nostalgic. It is hard not to compare who I was with the person I am today — it feels like a lifetime ago. Though I am still trying to figure out who I am I can assure you that I am not the same person I was in high school.

But that’s all a part of growing up, right?

It is quite easy to simply say that I have changed because well, I did. But change is inevitable. The atoms inside of us are consistently rearranging, the world keeps spinning, and time is the only thing that seems to ever be progressing.

However, a major difference that baffles me as well is how anti-social I have become. Over the years my huge circle of friends has dwindled down, the group of friends I had in high school is not the people that surrounds me today. The promises of “best friends forever” had an alternative meaning that I was not aware of until life came in and kicked that lesson into my head.

It sucks and it took me a very long time to understand that things like this happen all the time.

As I started college, I was super fascinated with making new friends in my classes. I mean, a lot of lifelong friendships are made in college, right?

Unfortunately, I am the odd statistic where this didn’t apply to me. I mean, I still lived at home and the distance between my house and my university may as well be a half day trip away. Especially during rush hour.

I was only at school when I had to be.

That made making friends rather difficult; in the beginning, I conversed with people in my class but it ended there. The quarter would end, a new group of people would cycle in, and the series would continue until I graduate.

Over the years I grew exhausted of this routine. The friends I did have were enough and that is all I need.

After I graduated high school, I was excited to start making my own money. I no longer had to pester my mother to buy me things and I didn’t want to. Freedom was mine!

I got a job as a hostess and slowly moved my way up in the restaurant. The job gave me valuable experience and I have become sympathetic to people who work in the customer service industry.

But as I was busy dealing with people day in and out, I realized that serving people can be mentally and emotionally draining.

I would come home and just sit in my room alone. I refused to interact with my family and kept my door locked. It wasn’t for any malicious intent; I have grown to be so content in my solitude that I would crave it after long days of work.

As a full-time college student and now part-time barista I have found out one important thing about myself — I hate small talk. I despise this notion; I hate it because although some random person is asking how I am is truly thoughtful and caring­, I will probably never speak to them again. I will probably never see this person again.

The simple act of small talk seems unnecessary to me. When someone is asking me how I have been, I simply just say “good” and move on. Not only does this save the both of us time but it also saves us the simplistic notion of pretending like we care about one another.

I mean I do, I care that you’re alive and doing well but aside from that let’s just move on. Shall we?

Now, as I have successfully typed this all out I realize how depressing I sound.

Do I wish I wasn’t so anti-social? Oh heck yes.

Will I try to be more outgoing? Probably not.

I am content in my own bubble with the occasional hangouts here and there. But I am sure I am not the only person who feels this way. I am a huge believer that everything happens for a reason, that sometimes things don’t work out so better things can come together. Or at least this is what I like to tell myself to make me feel better.

I like to think that I am not alone in this, that being this detached is perfectly fine.

Also, just going to throw in that I am not looking forward to any of my high school reunions. Awkward conversations with people I haven’t seen in years? YIKES!