"...And Keep In Touch."

These days, I am far more social than I used to be. When I get the idea that I have eradicated old tendencies towards isolation though, I tend to be corrected. It's all still there, and maybe all that's changed is that I am now open to being wrenched away from them by external forces. If I were in an unfamiliar town with no one I knew, I probably would just stay in the hotel room. With a friend, I might even take the lead on going out and doing things, but only because they were there.

I've never fooled myself into thinking I have become comfortable talking on the phone. Before everyone else had abandoned phone calls in favor of texting and online things, I was very ill at ease. The pressing of the last digit to someone's number felt like cutting the crucial wire on a bomb, with al the attendant anxiety. Phone conversations are hard, because there is no forgiveness for pauses. In person you're still communicating when you're not talking. On the phone, you might as well not be there if you're not talking.

The consequence is that communication with some people out of town is hard. Those who are very attuned to the modern methods of social networking and texting won't have noticed this, but with people for whom phone calls remain de rigueur, communication is strained. This includes blood relatives who are extremely dear to me. If they don't call me, then we probably aren't going to talk too often. That makes me unhappy.

If they do call me, the ring strikes fear into my heart. Fear gives way to anger and I wonder with irritation who could be calling. I see who it is and jump to conclusions about why that person must be angry enough to call. I get scared again as I answer, and warily exchange greetings and pleasantries. I breath the world's largest sigh of relief as they get to the point, which is not something horrible that I've done or that they want me to do. When the call is over, I am floating on air.

This is not to say that I don't want calls. I'm of two minds on it, in a way that Oscar Wilde would surely appreciate. I want calls and I don't want them. I want to get them and I don't want to take them. I don't want to take them and I don't want to miss them. I don't feel comfortable having them but want to get better, and so the only way is to steel myself and bite the bullet over and over until finally I am at ease, if ever that's going to happen.