The Invisible Man

From the outside, she is composed, articulate, outgoing. She can carry on a conversation with ease, approach a stranger without prompting, and begin a discussion about the weather, food, life. She has been the one in a group to approach another’s object of affection, asking for a number for a friend. She is the exact opposite of an introvert, in every sense.

Oh, how appearances can be deceiving. In high school, she was the runner up to the ultimate winner her senior year for “most quiet.” For her, conversations aren’t natural, even though to the person with whom she is speaking, she may sound like she knows what she is talking about, internally she is judging each word that comes out of her mouth, thinking about what she could have said differently, how that last sentence sounded awkward and unnatural.

Just like she is. Completely awkward. She always feel like she is tripping over herself, wearing a pair of shoes a size too large, a shirt a size too small. Her arms are too gangly, her hair never the right color, always a mess.  She’s a total disaster.

Anxiety plagues almost everything she does. Every step she makes, even something as minor as a trip to the grocery store, brings up questions of  where she left her keys..did she lock the door? Is her debit card in her wallet, did she bring her phone? Questions like this happen all of the time, in almost every situation. And yet, she walks through a typical day checking her Facebook application on her phone, striking up conversations, introducing herself to new people at the grocery store, a restaurant, wherever she goes.

Life is a balancing act, between her awkward inner self and her outgoing exterior. And somehow, she makes it work. She doesn’t apologize for who she is, and some like her that way. So for now, she hides the invisible part of her. 850924f88e8734409ce7d934f36893a7

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