If in the first twenty-something years of your life you don't succeed ...

I'm socially awkward.

This is not a new development, but one that I am finally coming to terms with. Or recognizing. It will likely take years for me to "come to terms with" aka "own" this part of me. I hope I'll just grow out of it.

The problem may have something to do with any number of things: my self-esteem, my ADD, my inability to see out of my glasses, hormones, lack of adequate protein in my diet, fear.

I looked up "awkward" in the medical dictionary, hoping it was a symptom of something else, but nothing came up. So, it's just me. Being me.

I have a hard time making and keeping friends, even though I really really really want to. I am infamous for making a formerly good conversation come to a rolling stop because I offered what I thought would be an encouraging response, only to find out that it was like saying "period" at the end of a sentence. Or writing "The End" in the middle of chapter 3 of a 14 chapter novel.

Usually, none of this bothers me, mostly because I hardly notice. I spend hours alone everyday, staring at my computer, making lesson plans for my hypothetical classes or reading the blogs of people I've never met.

But I do occasionally notice, on those rare occasions when I spend time with the one or two friends I still have, and their ability to be awesome totally blows me away. Then, instead of seizing the opportunity to connect, I spend the whole time admiring and studying their mannerisms, hoping one day to end up like them through mimicry.

This is the way you hold your head. This is the way you laugh. This is how to listen. These are the intuitive questions to ask to invite people in and make people like you. To make people trust you.

And Kellie, these are the ways you are not.