He was never good at socializing, nor was he at making friends. It didn’t mean he had no friends, but he certainly didn’t have a lot. It didn’t help that he had to move to a foreign country. Poe hated being away from home, away from his ordinarily quiet like. Now, he was in a place that was not familiar to him. Yet, Poe prided himself in his intelligence, it was one of things we was proud of—besides his writing. He loved reading, it was a sort of get away for him. Words meant more than actions.