I'm intimidated by anything I'm not. I see what I can't do and what I don't know, and it fascinates me into silence… Because my favorite thing about strangers is how they remind me I'm so small. It strips down my ego into a faltering of words and anxious hands that don't know how to hold themselves. It becomes a powerful consciousness, too, of my very posture. My breathing is unnatural. Involuntary yawning is imminent. I forget what I'm saying one word in. I make no sense; not even to myself. I would laugh at myself if I knew it wouldn't come out like a hyena coughing like something went down the wrong hole, as it always seems to in strangers' company. So I'm going to finish this painful conversation with a little more forced smiling. Am I still smiling? I can't feel my cheeks anymore.
Forgive me, I'm just awkward.