I’m socially awkward. Shocking, I know. So much so that it’s not even cute, just really strange. Which is odd, because both my parents are (or is that were?) charismatic and sensitive to things left unspoken. Wherever my mom goes, she knows exactly how to dress and what to say and what to do and what expression to have on her face, even if nobody is talking.

My siblings are like that too. They’re not perfect, no, but they do excel in social interactions. Even my moody brother who just harumphs at everyone.

Then there’s me. I stutter. I am tactless. Expressions and silent cues are lost upon me. I can rarely tell when someone is lying (unless I know the exact story beforehand, and provided I do not forget). I say the exact thing you’re NOT supposed to say at any given time. My face is unable to lie: when I don’t like something, it shows, even around the people I love and even knowing it’ll hurt them. I am unable to extract myself out of a difficult conversation or relationship smoothly. And, well, a number of things. There are many better at expressing themselves than I, so I’ll just leave the rest to your imagination.

Anywho. Perhaps the suave gene skipped me. Maybe I got it from both sides, and it cancelled itself out. Or maybe I’ve got some undiagnosed illness. All I know is that I prefer writing and typing to face to face talks. Even then, I do not know what to say. As anyone who’s had words with me knows.

And I prefer face to face talks over phone calls. But that’s a topic all on its own, worthy of its own soliloquy.


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