I was at a birthday party last night and I experienced something I've experienced so many times, the feeling of loneliness while surrounded by people. If my life was a novel, this would practically be the theme.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with being introverted, but the fact I secretly want to be extroverted makes everything more complicated. I wish I was completely secure with my timidness, that I truley despise socializing with strangers and being noticed. But there's something in me that wants to be more sociable and charismatic, able to hold conversations flawlessly with people without being uncomfortably awkward. Ultimately I wish that my introvertedness was a choice, not a safety blanket.
When this clawing feeling of aloneness begins to evaporate any sense of my confidence at a social gathering, I start to day dream. I could see myself as the main character of a Tarantino movie, the secretary for the Beatles, anything really. And this imaginary character can be the embodiment of all the idealistic qualities I long to have: confidence, wit, even beauty to a sad sad sad degree. This approach is the equivalent of a cough drop, it might lessen the pain but won't solve the underlying problem.
In the end I believe that life is too short to stay in the comfort zone, and the world is so big there's least one interesting person who can tolerate my existence. I regret not trying to talk to more people yesterday, especially people I don't know.
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