Contrary to the title of this week's piece, this is more than a letter to the introvert in my veins. This is a sit down to coffee and a warm fire with my honesty. A chance for the person I try to be to look at the person I truly am on the inside and get on the same playing field; to get on the same team and work together.

I've known for a long time that I was more reserved than I might have liked to admit, and growing up in a society that (I thought) rewarded the male species for staying hush-hush about their feelings and simply being tough through literally EVERYTHING, I thought that maybe I was almost weird for feeling as much as I did. I wondered why I could never look someone directly in the eye when they were angry about something. I always felt like I needed to respect their need to simply BE angry. Ya know, not push the envelope.

I never really understood why I didn't care for big social gatherings where we went around to different places and did different things, all to make me realize later on that we actually did nothing. It was always interesting to think about how I loved sitting around in my childhood friend's basement listening to music, hoping that they would love what I turned on when I grabbed the AUX cord too. We would dance for hours to some, and others that I hoped we would. I cherished that, yet it never felt like they did, and I wondered if I simply wasn't cutting it.

Alright, so maybe that last thought wasn't completely a trait of you, but it all goes back to the idea of feeling a lot. I cherished the moments where my friends and I were simply sitting around and having good, long, fully-developed conversations about BIG things; about big meaningful things.

I also wondered why I thought so much of people saying (or not saying) "Thank you" when I hold doors for them. Maybe they were thinking and just neglected to acknowledge my deed. Regardless, it is rude and people should do that, right? After all, I care a lot about how people view me, and so I try to do everything I can to make sure that I never give off the wrong impression of myself to anyone. Sometimes I succeed and sometimes I fail, yet the fact still remains that no matter my success rate, at least I tried, right?

I remember a time when I was up at my friend's house as a kid. I used to always bring my iPod up to listen to while we played video games, or if we wanted to play the drum machine (to the best of our ability) to each track. However, there was one time when a bunch of his family and family-friends came over for dinner. In a house full of these high energy, high-volume people that knew each others' lives inside and out, I felt terribly out of place. I felt like a faded shadow on the wall. So, to escape, I went back into his room and proceeded to escape with the music. A few minutes later, his uncle came through and asked what I was doing that had the connotation of being wrong for doing said activity, and it made me feel rather strange and weird about myself to simply be doing what I normally did at that age. I was comfortable. I was energetic.

Sitting here, now a 23 year old young man, looking you in the face, I am ready to accept my introversion as the person I really am. I realize now that that faded shadowy figure is the best way for me to be, and that there is nothing wrong with that. People have still accepted me despite my tendencies to be a little more quiet and reclusive. They understand that I truly do care about people, just on a more personal, more connected level. I feel when people hurt, and I want to help them anyway I can. I don't simply want to ask for the sake of asking, just like I don't want to reduce the phrase "How are you doing?" to nothing more than volleying small talk. Some people don't want that; some people aren't like that. That's okay, and I shouldn't be offended when they don't pass the ball back.

That's what I mean when I say the person I try to be can work together with the person I really am.

I can feel for people's hurt and offer my hand in the hopes that they will trust me enough to take it, however, I cannot take it as a personal sleight when they don't accept it. I also can accept the fact that I need personal space more than space with a group of people, and that's okay too. It's healthy, and if it makes me happier to recharge my batteries by way of alone time, then I need to do that.

I know you and I can work together and find a common ground. I know that the person I truly am comes out whether I want it to or not, however I think the person I have tried to be has learned a few things as well about interacting. About how to volley my needs with what society and the world is willing to bounce back. I think we both have redeeming qualities about ourselves, and I see this as being a very successful partnership. Let's get to work, shall we?