Impatience = loneliness

I'm not a patient person. I never have been. As a child I found the punishment of standing in the corner the most excruciating of all. My sister could stand there and day dream for extended periods of time, lost in her own fantasy world. I would trace the pattern of the linoleum with my toes--I still remember the strange squares of brown, red and beige--and jiggle my feet. Nothing was worse than having to stare at the wall or the ground and wait for the minutes to tick by until I was released from the kitchen corner and my punishment for slapping my brother or being rude to my mom.

Sadly, all those moments in the corner that were supposed to teach me patience did nothing for me. I still stand in long lines at stores and find my annoyance growing rapidly. Working at Second Cup, nothing irked me more than people who insisted on counting out very specific change for their coffee, right down to the last penny. When I make plans with people, I expect them arrive on time because my parents taught me that being late was disrespectful to the person you were meeting. I wait impatiently for people to show up for outings we've planned while thoughts like 'I would never do this to them' float through my head.

The greatest lesson I've learned in the past few months has been patience. I've learned to wait with calm and understanding when people inevitably show up late at my apartment. I've learned that life isn't always about exact times or dates. I've learned that we all have different views on what is important and what is lower on said importance scale. I've learned that not everyone holds punctuality in such high regard as I do. I've even let myself slip and have shown up "fashionably late" places. It's almost freeing to let myself relax and be less retentive about such things.

But at the same time, sometimes I feel like I still care more and I'm making more of an effort than other people. Even though I've outwardly mastered the ability to remain nonchalant, inside I often feel a storm of annoyance and frustration, that I'm the person who cares so much or tries so hard while other people just float by on the lazy river of life.

I guess what I'm admitting is that I feel so alone sometimes--alone in my frustrations, alone in my view of what a relationship entails, alone walking down the street and listening to music. Loneliness isn't always a bad thing, but feeling alone when there are people around you is. Why do we feel so isolated sometimes? Shouldn't the people in our lives somehow bridge that darkness?

Does my impatience = loneliness? Sometimes.

Do my feeling and emotions run a bit out of a control at times? For sure they do.

Is it all my fault that I feel this way? That's the question I'm trying to answer. Should I constantly be changing my principles and sacrificing my ideals to fit into a situation better? Am I becoming a better person as I change or am I simply pushing who I am to the back, suppressing myself to please others?

Thoughts, thoughts.