I am a poor story teller. I don’t do smalltalk well. Most of the time when I relate an event, the humor disappears from it. Am I an introvert? Probably. Am I always comfortable with the silence? Probably not. I find it difficult to pick up the phone and call a friend to know how they’re doing. If we meet, have a good (but short) conversation, forgive me if I don’t ask for your number. I won’t call, unless we were discussing business and it wasn’t done.

While many people will keep contact with quite a number of friends, I find that at any particular point in my life, my number never gets to 10. I simply don’t have that much to talk about. Sad? Maybe, but it is my reality. It is who I am and I simply don’t see how that will ever change. In my primary schooling I was ‘a man of few words’. In secondary I was quiet and ‘freestyle’. In university I still remained me.

Writing has never been quite as difficult as talking. While I write, my brain seems to form the right words, and even if it doesn’t, I simply erase and try again. I seem to become emboldened when I write. Things that would simply fall too heavily on my tongue can be ‘said’ without too much difficulty. I haven’t yet figured out this difference. Why am I so much better at being ‘normal’ when writing? Fair warning, I might be quiet if I talk, but am just a noise maker when I write.