Books like Very Far Away from Anywhere Else

Have you ever walked down an empty street at night and not be able to help noticing the bright lights inside of the warm houses? It's a cliche but people look sad, or happy, or anything else there is to feel. It's that feeling of knowing that people are feeling something and it's got nothing whatsoever to do with you. You're outside, alone, and no one notices you, or your freaking cute dog. Other times are the best. Listening to music on headphones and getting goosebumps from favorite songs. Everybody's souls are parallel and perpendicular. It's a tricky feeling to get a handle of. When it's enough, when it's not. There's possibilities in one and heartache in the other. I fear coming up against the wall. I'm afraid that all that's ever going to be with almost everyone I'll ever meet is the lamp post communication, the there's no one better to talk to communication blankness. (Ever have a conversation with a person who gets up the moment someone "better" comes around? Or constantly checks their cell phone? Depressing.) I dread the token "I see" response. I get so afraid of it that I stop talking altogether.This could have been that story for me. The parallel hard to always grow up story. Sadly, depressingly, it wasn't. I felt left out of Owen and Natalie's connection. It didn't really feel like a connection to me. The narrarator, Owen, is a big part of the problem, from where I'm sitting (alone. By choice!). He's theoretical boy. You know how annoying it was when Winona Ryder announced an attempted alcoholism problem to give weight to her art? Owen does that but with forced girl trouble and his art is coming of age. I think I kinda hated him when he bursts into his parent's house screaming, "I'm an intellectual!" Not even the nonstop whining that they *gasp* had the gall to buy him a car, when he'd rather the money be spent on something else he wanted. Geez Louise. Too much ass patting for my tastes. I didn't like his generic world-view. Take any bad teen movie with a "These are the jocks. These are the preppy kids..." and you have his observations, pretty much. The point of this story was being known, about finding that anchor in another person that you can be stupid or smart with. Yeah? Then why did I never know him? He labeled himself. Maybe it's me. I've never felt like "poor me" smart kid who is unappreciated by the unwashed masses. I just felt alone. Get through today and don't live for a dinner party dream. I didn't become a well adjusted person on a birth date. Wasn't he just using Natalie as a token teen experience of the girl who got away? It wasn't ever about her. He doesn't see her. He doesn't even dream inside himself. It's to say he has one. That's the worst thing of all.My favorite part is when Natalie says "Yeah" in a real way that isn't a token "I see" way. That was the time I felt that Le guin knew what it was to really want that something realer connection. I don't know. For these kinds of stories I feel too seperate because it's not something I decided to be. Owen decides to be in love, he decides to be awkward with Natalie. I felt bad for the girl. I can't understand a girl who can't be silly without Owen, but I felt bad for her. She wanted a friend to talk to and he craps out for no good reason. I didn't buy the "These things happen" world-view. I don't wanna stare in the window and feel an aching loss I can't put a finger on. This is something you DO get to decide. It's okay to want things, right?Dammit, Le guin.