One is the Lonliest Number

I do not immediately want to address the fact that this is to be my first post since March.

Every so often when I am alone I remember that once upon a time, I used to write nearly every day. I look at my blog and see that with each successive year, I wrote less...and less...and less. This cannot possibly be the source of my problems, but it was undoubtedly detrimental. Writing was something of a sacred ritual for me and I considered it my only reliable catharsis. Now I only write on occasion, an ocean of excuses ready to drown the slightest urge to put pen to paper.
Lately, I have been looking a little closer at the people around me, trying to figure out what it is they are doing that I am not. Most people have a passion...something they are particularly good at and devoted to. These are the people who seem to have a circle of friends and acquaintances constantly buzzing around them, whether in person, through the telephone, or over the internet. There are always people seeking them out.
It seems that in order for people to be wanted, they must possess some quality or skill that draws others to them.

Whatever it is that allows people to make meaningful connections with one another, I do not think I have it.

Next month, I will have been in Seattle for 2 years. 2 years, and not a single person I would call "friend". My significant other is the only person who I really know here, and he has introduced me to most of the people I now know. But, his friends are exactly that...his friends. They say hello, and some joke with me, but the interactions are always surface level. Some of these people I have now known for nearly 2 years, and still...nothing more than a shallow conversation. Of course, there is a massive age difference between me and many of the people I am most frequently around, so it undoubtedly presents some mental obstacles.

After awhile, when no one calls you on the phone to ask you how you are, when no sends you emails asking you what you are up to, when no one except your co-workers, your parents, and your significant other tries to contact you, it gets a little old.
And naturally, I have to start wondering what it is about me that makes me so inaccessible. Do I just not care about any one thing enough to get in with the people who care so deeply about any one subject? Am I not genuine enough? Am I impersonal? Do I converse incorrectly? I just can't understand it, and though I know life continues on and things aren't really so terrible...it would be nice to have a few friends. People who check up on me from time to time and ask me how I am, or invite me to go do something...

What is it?