This is what happened: Hayley goes to party. Hayley eats pizza, talks about debate, attempts to dance, and stands alone in the corner for fifteen minutes before deciding to blow the joint. Hayley see kid at the piano, and being a sucker for piano music, stands and listens. Hayley barely speaks more than two words, just smiles a lot, sings a little, and leaves when they start talking Halo. Hayley sits in hotel room all alone, tired and feeling like a social failure.
I just really don't know what's wrong with me. I like people, I like "dancing," I like hanging out. I used to like meeting people, but maybe I spent so much time with people I already knew that I've forgotten how it's done? Was it a crisis of confidence, a bout of insecurity, fear of being judged? Perhaps it's my vanity, that I feel like I have something to prove, that I can't stand the thought of not being liked. I could analyze it away, say it's the introvert in me, or that I'm just passive, or that I wasn't feeling well, but the truth is, this should be easy for me, and I can't understand why it wasn't.
And I can pretend this is an isolated incident of social ineptness, but this feeling is kind of a familiar one. Rationally I know I have nothing to be afraid of, but in feeling and practice large groups of people I don't know scare me. I guess they scare a lot of people. But I wish they didn't. And even though I'm tempted to think, "So what, I'm never going to see these people again, why should I bother cultivating casual relationships with them," that's a selfish, unloving attitude. And all the more reason to push past my feelings of inferiority, and get to know these people, not for my sake, but to love on them. And what is the root of love? It's not about me, and tonight I guess I forgot that. God is good.