Why am I so reluctant to talk to people?

I go out for coffee or lunch on my own

(like I’ve been doing for, you know, the past twenty years or so - not always alone but mostly; I read, I write, I write a tonne. It’s normal for me.)

and I always get a little bit nervous ordering, I’m quietly spoken.

(I’ve gone through periods of being more overtly confident, louder, making more eye contact. I’m not nervous or anxious except that it’s just a habit to be that way).

Other people can seem so loud, so confident, their voices carry, the baristas get their orders the first time around. They take their time talking.

And then I sit down and look at all the people and think, they all look so interesting, why would I not want to talk to all of them, hear their stories. I wish I could find a pretext for it, get their attention.

Do I find men more interesting? I think I know what the women will say. I guess there is that added thing of potential chemistry with men, that extra layer of testing whether I’m still attractive. Some men love to talk to women, some don’t I guess. Sometimes I just look at a guy and wonder what it would be like to run my fingers through his hair. Some men look like lovers I’ve had. I’m not looking for lovers right now but I’d still like to hear their stories.

(I wish it was easier to just talk to people, to start conversations.)

Anyway, that whole train of thought is a diversion. I am reluctant to place my order because I am in my internal bubble, the world of my own thoughts. I just don’t want to break the silence. And the wall of glass that kept me captive all those years, is now the window that protects my whole internal world and keeps it all mine.

(You could sit opposite me and not say a word, just make eye contact, and I could look at you from inside the bubble and that would be fine. Just don’t speak. Don’t ask me anything.)