Personal Stories

I spend more time in preparation,
Than I ever will in conversation.
I whisper my anticipated words,
Then shiver as they fly away like birds.

I spend more time in preparation,
Than I ever will in celebration.
Are they judging me?
Why are they looking at me funny?

I spend more time in preparation,
Than I ever will on public transportation.
Stranger’s trying to make eye contact,
Got to look away, maybe at the train track.

Chronic battle of needing affection and to be touched,
Yet struggling to even make any eye contact.
Let me tell you, it’s really a pain,
To hear people laugh, and think it’s about you, again, and again.

I feel the need to apologize,
But I don’t even know what to be sorry for.
Do you think I’m rude?
Or does my social awkwardness make you uncomfortable?

What if I were to tell you,
I feel the same way, too?

-Sally B.