It is always disconcerting to come to the realization that you do not "belong" at all in the place where you have chosen to live. This isn't really shocking, in fact, I've known I don't exactly fit in here for quite some time, and generally speaking I'm okay with that fact. However, this past Saturday I attended something that demonstrated to me that not only do I not fit in here but I never will. I don't find it depressing exactly since I am secretly relieved that I am not the type of person who would enjoy a tractor pull (nor, for that matter, know exactly what took place at one), but it did get me thinking. And what is disconcerting is that I also felt this way in college and to a lesser extent, in high school.
Ordinarily feeling different isn't such a bad thing, provided you can find a few other people who feel the same as you do, or who can at least relate. Fortunately I do have some friends who fit that bill. But spending your life feeling like you don't ever fully belong anywhere is not comforting. If I was radically different, with no common ground to speak of, maybe it would be easier to deal with because then it could just be chalked up to being in the wrong place. Rather like a puzzle piece from one box that had found it's way into another puzzle altogether. You'd know that the correct puzzle existed somewhere. Unfortunately, I am like a puzzle piece that looks like it should fit in a spot and it does, almost. Maybe one of the arms is too thick, or the angle of the spoke isn't steep enough. Minor things. So it gets tried this way and that, and occasionally pounded, in an effort to make it fit. And stubbornly the piece will not go. Thus it is left on the edge of the table while all the other pieces fit together forming their picture. At least I don't have to worry about being knocked off the table and eaten by the dog.