“You’re So Quiet” — Yeah, I Wish You Were Too
Please go away, I’m introverting
I like corners. I like the edges of a room.
It’s here — on the outskirts of any public gathering — where the walls are, which act as chargers I can plug into.
It’s also where I have the best view: of the talkers, of the noisemakers at the center of every circle.
That’s not to say I don’t enjoy conversation and company. Contrary to what many think about introverts, we’re not anti-social. We simply have a different definition of what being social means.
For us, it’s about word count.
Introverts want their words to count.
I have as many words as the next extrovert. The only difference is the majority of them don’t leave my mouth. It’s a matter of placement. And storage.
Don’t be fooled by my silence, however. My mind is loud. But like little kids on a sugar high, my words are more easily controlled if they’re not flying all over the place, crashing into one another, landing where they shouldn’t land, regretting their existence.
This is what I’m picturing when I’m standing at the edge of any public event anyway, when the talkers can’t stop talking.
