A MAN AT FAULT
As far back as I could remember, I have always been an introvert. While the other school children were busy playing dodgeball at recess, I was more concerned about dodging human conversation.
Not to say that I don’t enjoy people, I just prefer their company from a distance. My mother insists that this goes back to my childhood. One might assume that being the youngest, in a sibling group of six, took its toll on me.
Not to say I was a victim, far from it. Time alone, allowed me to discover the invaluable importance of patience. While my peers relied on their Gameboys to keep them entertained, I could stare at a wall and envision a million different scenarios — my own private Mario World.
Perhaps that is why I find the life of a writer to be romantic. Writing allows one to get their point across without ever speaking a single word.
I often find nowadays that I can hold conversations with the best of them. The only difference, when all is said and done, a conversation drains me like a AA battery charging a Tesla. Introverts need a certain amount of time to recharge, and if not, we tend to withdraw, at least in my experience. Through the years, I have lost more friends because of being an introvert than due to my political beliefs.
If being an introvert were my only flaw, I would feel a sense of relief. However, when it comes to certain traits and behaviors, I have been known to be neurotic. For example, the other day, I was sitting on the couch, and I noticed that my cat’s fur was unkempt in one place. I chased that poor feline around the house like a bloodthirsty tick, not satisfied until the hair was back in its proper place.
Things out of place seem to bother me, probably because I can’t seem to keep my own life in order. I need to be in control of every situation. Some might call this leadership, I call it: things to discuss with my therapist. I’m curious about things and how they work, almost to a fault.
“Why” has become a favorite word of mine. I am like an annoying child, constantly asking the parent why. The sky is blue: Why? The road is long: Why? The introvert has no friends: Why? Actually, I know the answer to the last question. Does this make me a bad person or somewhat unlikeable to my fellow man? Yes, yes it does.
But, for the most part, I tend to be a great disguiser of my faults, because I tend to focus on the faults of others, and in return, most people don’t seem to realize that I am a glass half washed.
