Social Anxiety

The sound of my combat boots against the floor of the train station already felt as if they were twice as loud as anyone else’s shoes here. Along with that, every coherent thought of what I could say to break a horrifyingly empty silence disappear at my lips the second they open to speak. I’d like to think that the same was happening to her as I look over at her fumbling fingers against the strap of her bag and the way her head is turned ever so slightly away from me. 

“Did you cut your hair recently?” I make a mental plea to any entity watching from above that the shortness of it was something new. 

“I cut it back in December actually.” It’s April. My smile falters a bit but I resist the urge to crouch down over my legs and scream into my hands as I practically hear the entity laugh in my face. 

“Oh.” I could die. “I guess I didn’t notice, sorry.” Our hands nearly touch as we walk alongside each other through the pathway towards the station that seems to be getting smaller by every passing moment, causing me to lift both arms and slip my hands into my jacket pockets. She clutches her bag harder, I pretend not to notice. 

It’s busy today, swarms of people and chatter echoing off the concrete walls of the establishment yet somehow the undertones of silence have never felt so loud. My hands grow increasingly more sweaty by the second and I wonder if they’d leave sweat stains if I wiped them on my pants. 

In a matter of milliseconds, I’m questioning all of my life choices, starting from how I wanted to be productive today and go out to buy more unneeded stationary to ever setting foot on this earth. It’s a horrid process, really, but it all circles back to one person, a friend of mine who was also a friend of hers which is why I ended up walking next to someone who was as good as a stranger to me out of an odd standard for courtesy. 

Seeing someone at school, waving at them because they’re with your mutual friend, and choosing to force small talk as you make the fifteen minute walk to the train station are two completely different things that should never mix, I conclude in my mind as I scratch at the back of my neck and force the ongoing panic to dissipate from my body before I malfunction. It doesn’t listen. 

It’s about two more minutes until we reach the trains, I think, already going through the five stages of grief simply imagining how to say goodbye. 

“So.” She’s attempting to make my demise easier for me, I guess. “This is my stop.” She tried but forgot that the train wasn’t here yet, placing me in the nauseating predicament of whether or not to leave now or stay here, both seemingly ending in nothing but more I’d-rather-be-dead-than-do-this kind of awkwardness. 

“Right.” I say, but my feet aren’t moving and I can’t tell if she expects them to or not. 

She looks away. 

I look away. 

Maybe I should spit out a goodbye and run away as fast as I can. Maybe I can transfer schools and never have to face her again. Maybe the ground will open up and swallow me alive. 

“You don’t have to wait here if you don’t want to.” Finally! My leave! Except her phone is ringing and she’s turning away to pick up as I stand there again, wondering if I should be waiting to respond and say goodbye or if I should be scurrying away on all fours, never to set foot outdoors again. 

Her call ends in a matter of minutes, minutes that I had spent imagining myself trotting like a horse on my hands and knees mind you, and she looks back at me as if waiting for something to be said. 

I wonder if I start violently choking she’ll get the memo and walk away, and I even consider it for a second. But I don’t, settling on clearing my throat and speaking, ready to burst into tears if my voice cracks. “Who was it?” My voice doesn’t crack, angels sing in the background. 

“My mom. She wanted me to run some errands for her.” 

“Oh, cool.” Yikes. 

It’s silent again until I hear the angelic melodies of a train approaching the station from my far left, begging on my figurative knees that the sound wasn’t just impending death from a situation too awkward for life. 

Nearly fainting after my pleas were heard, I twist my head just as she does too and our eyes meet, both of us knowing that in less than a minute, we’ll be free, even if we now have pulled neck muscles from turning too quickly. 

The train comes to a stop right in front of us, its doors opening to let out a questionably large amount of passengers from the vehicle, no seriously, how do so many fit in there, and suddenly, all I can see is a bright, flashing light. 

“Bye!” She says, too excitedly but I’ll let that pass, stepping onto the elevated platform with tears of joy in her eyes. 

“I’ll see you Monday!” I say, mirroring her face except I’m sure that tears are actually falling onto the ground, knowing that I’m lying because there’s no way in hell I’d ever be capable of surviving seeing her against but that doesn’t matter now. 

The sound of the train’s doors closing and the engine running as it pulls away from where it had stopped brings an onslaught of emotions strong enough to cause a seizure. 

Wedding bells ring as doves fly over my head, sprinkling rose petals as they go. 

Chunks of hair fall from my head at the pure excitement that has struck my heart. 

The ground shakes beneath me, the sun fills the room with a harmony unknown to mankind. 

Heaven becomes a place on earth. 

I sprout wings and fly away, now ready to die a peaceful and happy death.