I swear it’s not because I don’t like you, world. You’re a fun place, really, but you’re too big and too loud. More than a couple hours at a time, tops, is just too much. Be patient with me, I’m still working on these things.
By the way, before you settle down to make a call to me, will you check carefully to see if you can just text instead? I’m screening the calls, you know, and you’ll just go to voicemail. Sorry; well, not really.
Nope, I don’t hang out with other introverts, either. There’s not an Introverts Anonymous. None of us would show up for that, anyway.
Did I tell you that I don’t like parties? That’s why, if I even make it at all, I’m always late and I leave early. I don’t like to make small talk. It feels fake to smile and nod and try to keep up my end of the conversation. I leave with a social hangover every time. Then I need to spend the next 24 hours alone – recharging.
There’s no need to feel sorry for me. If I do make it to the party, I’m quite happy sitting in the corner watching how other people can flutter around the room like a butterfly, laughing and talking and touching every single person at least once. Amazing. Just try not to touch me, please.
So, I just needed to get this off my chest. It’s not a big deal if you don’t read my manifesto. It was enough for me just to write it down.
(featured photo credit: elibishop.com)