According to this website, when someone says, “Oh, you’re a xenodochial,” it means you’re someone who’s friendly to strangers. I didn’t even know this word existed. I looked it up on dictionary.com, no such word.

Hmm… interesting.

It’s strange that I can get along so well with someone I’ve never met but I can’t play well with anyone that I’ve known for longer than a few years.

For as long as I can remember, making friends has been a pain in the you-know-what for me. I’m often a little envious that my mom is still contact with her high school classmates even though they’re scattered across the globe. Meanwhile, I have zero friends, zilch. The only so-call friends I have are from church and most of them are past middle-aged and barely knows me.

Like I said, I am a xenodochial.

I think I have trouble making friends because of my unattractive qualities – impatient, quiet, over-analyze…

I think I tend to over-analyze things in my head. For example, I would run hundreds of scenarios in my minds before I speak, to make sure I don’t say the wrong thing and offend anyone. Often times, this would be turned against me and – WHAM – there goes a friendship.

In a previous post, I wrote about having a best friend in middle school even though all she did was tease me from the get-go. In my opinion, middle school was (sadly) the best years of my life. I actually had friends (people who barely knows me) and a posse of three after my so-called best friend somewhat dumped me after less than 2 years of friendship.

She grew tired of me and I got angry at her for always choosing to hang out with her neighbor instead. Her neighbor, who’s a year younger and went to same school as us, disliked me, called me all sorts of names even though we’ve never met. Her neighbor actually managed to convince my friend I wasn’t good for her.

The worst part of that friendship was even after the friendship broke off, we still had to see each other each afternoon because her mother paid mine to tutor her everyday after school. After school became the most awkward part of my days.

To conclude, I don’t believe I am a bad person. I have bad qualities, yes. I have lots of baggage, yes. I over-analyze things, yes. Maybe the reason is because I never had a true friend.

Theme: Of all the things I am

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