Guilt TO Love

A trip to remember

I wondered how many people there were in the world who suffered and continued to suffer because they could not break out from their own enmeshed web of shyness and reserve and in their blindness and folly built up a great distorted wall in front of them that hid the truth. Hearing people gregariously and happily laughing near you. Not talking because you're pusillanimous and afraid that what you say will be judged. Keeping quiet in a conversation with three people. Not being able to go anywhere alone. Staying inside all day. Hating when the teacher asks you a question in class. Eye contact. Eating in front of people. Counting money before you pay. Not leaving voicemails. Paving for things at a shop. Always preparing what to say. Feeling disconcerted and embarrassed all the time.

   "Social Anxiety"

Directory of things people with social anxiety do. Feeling bathrooms as saviors and simpatico place and going there to escape. Feeling very uncomfortable without a phone or some other crutch, dwell on a small awkward moment for much longer than necessary. Many of us go through this and this includes Plan too. Plan was one of those who flagged and underwent social anxiety since his adolescence. A banal nerdy bookworm and a bibliophile with big spectacles who was not verbal much other than his close friend which comprises Perth or his orphanage brothers even in school. He was the studious topper yet used to sit in the most utmost corner and back seat of class where no one can notice his presence. The small slice more like a snippet of life nobody knows besides few people from the orphanage but even those few didn't want to talk or think about that traumatic and barbaric past again. They just didn't dare too or maybe it made them remember their own mistake. Past Plan never spoke or shared to Mean or maybe Mean never tried to know. In the past and long gone, social anxiety was again somewhat covering him a little by little like a blue sky getting camouflaged by dark, black, and angry clouds. It was gone because of Mean's presence in life, the positivity and assertiveness he felt to have someone just to himself but the social anxiety started coming back again for some unexplained reason, and Mean played a little role in it. The person who took him out of it started to push him into it unknowingly. At home badass aggressively dancing around with a hairbrush- microphone singing just in underwear to in public Oh my god don't notice me, don't ask me anything, don't make eye contact, wrists are little provocative let's wear a jacket, don't speak and they won't know you're there, I want to go home. It was like history was repeating itself or was about to revolve and repeat itself.

Plan ignored taking the lift and alternatively climbed down the stairs with a tumultuous thumping of foot. His anger encountering such a higher level of the sky that his mind was prejudiced to make any decision so to take a little anger out he kicked one of the ornamental flowers pots in the society installed to ensure a little greenery and attractive colors to the society. His breath was heavy and shallow so he closed his eyes shut and tried to regulate the breath. After a few inhale and exhale it came to normal. He walked out of society for the first time ignoring the guard to whom he always used to cheerfully wish and walked aimlessly to a nearby bus stand and sat on the floor chest hugging his knees freezing out those ominous stares he was receiving from very few people present at the bus stand at the late night. After sitting for hours and congregating his thoughts when he eventually gets out of his stressful and melancholic thoughts he noticed the night has turned even darker and fearsome and the bus stand was vacant. For the sun to get up from its sleep, there were still a few hours left and he didn't know where to go. Anna or orphanage list was short and the hour was odd.

"Why do I always bump into you when you are in a problem or hornet's nest most specifically saying when you are heartbroken?" An effortlessly detectable voice reached out from a luxurious car that stopped with a raucous and ear-deafening screech and window glass rolled down like a climax scene of some movie. Plan recognized the voice within seconds. The masculine voice belongs to a man he met at a party just a few hours back, the man with whom he danced which felt like he was one of the fairytale characters of the fantasy story of prince and cinderella, the man who made him feel he is desirable. The man whose face is always stricken with an irritating smirk. "I feel like I am some species of superhuman like the ironman who is created just for your rescue."