And then I get to the pool party, see the crowds milling together - groups of people meshed and flowing from one to another - and remember... I don't even know how to phrase it. It's like an overwhelming shyness mixed with gut-wrenching fear and discomfort at even being there. At stake dances I would sit in the church foyer because I felt like I should be there, but couldn't bring myself to go inside. At the pool party I didn't have a small group of people who could be a buffer for me and help me get to know new people. I didn't have a role to play like I do when I'm hosting a party, or when there's a topic already decided for conversation. The only thing I could think of doing was playing with my little brother, who's in town with my family, or practicing diving on the diving board, or just standing in the pool alone... neither of which put me in contact with anyone else, let alone a potential eternal mate.

I left the party frustrated with myself because I couldn't talk with anyone. Frustrated because I had been so excited, maybe even blithely so, and had somehow forgotten what inevitably happens to me in unstructured large-group gatherings. And frustrated with myself because I could feel myself wondering if I'll ever be worth it - asking questions that I should be firm on... answers that I've gotten a thousand times. And yet I still find myself wondering. If I have trouble talking with people, if I carry massive emotional and other burdens, if...