Hi, I am talking to you. Yes, you, about something serious I’ve observed. This is not meaningless chitchat that you (the collective you that seems to be voicing yourself on the internet a lot as of late) seem to think only you don’t have the patience for.
Let me get this straight. I adore you. I love that you were standing in that corner at that party. I love that you’d rather talk about books like me. I love that you aren’t trying to be the center of attention and wouldn’t want to be anyway. I also love that if I manage to approach you in just the right way, I can actually make you a little more comfortable in a place where you aren’t. Because even as an extrovert, it makes me MORE comfortable to do something like that than to be here with more than just a few people.
But I think we need to address a few things, introvert. See some of us non introverts understand you. At the very least, I’m really trying to and I believe that’s what you want me to do. But sometimes that’s hard when you automatically assume I don’t. Just as you don’t want me to make assumptions that you don’t care what everyone is talking about because you don’t feel like asserting yourself to give input or that you’re boring because you don’t go out all the time. Not all of us extroverts are socially aggressive gossip robots here to judge you. I know that people exhaust you. Sometimes they really exhaust me too. You don’t have a monopoly on social anxiety.
That’s the thing. Sometimes I word vomit the wrong conversation out my own awkwardness. I don’t actually want to talk about who did what at the VMAs, I just want to talk to you. Because I think you’re lovely over there in the corner and I’d like to stand with you. But with my personality, I have trouble doing that without saying at least something beyond hello first. And I’m not smooth, so it’s probably going to be something not quite on par for you. Because walking up to someone and immediately asking them how many times they’ve read “Catcher in the Rye” is pretentious. That will come up later, I promise, if you don’t shun me before we can get there. I am bad at first impressions.
But if you entertain me, for just a moment, I will feel comfortable and then we can be together in silence and observe. I like just observing too, you know. And silence doesn’t make me uncomfortable. We can share that space if you let me.
I’m willing to take the time with you, really. Let’s get out of here. Maybe we can get coffee in a few days when you’re ready even though I’d be game for tomorrow. We can go slow because I don’t think you were expecting this and I know that could throw you off. But let’s try this again and I’ll open up because I’ve probably already decided I want to let you in. I don’t expect you to do so at the same rate as me by any means because I know this feels quick for you. Obviously we will hit a roadblock if you never return the favor but I am telling you something because I trust you and I like you. This is not me pressuring you to share. And do not think that because I trust fast, that I will trust anyone and everyone. Like you, if I like you, I really like you and that group of people is select.
Should we really continue this, I would give up regularly forcing myself into very crowded social situations in a heartbeat.
I would so much rather curl up and watch Netflix with you.
Sparked by: An Open Letter To Extroverts