#IntrovertDiaries 2

I once took fifteen minutes to decide whether to wave back or just nod.

By the time I chose, the person had already turned away. I pretended to adjust my watch so it looked like I was doing something. There was no watch on my wrist.

That’s how it goes, every reaction becomes a debate.
A quiet back-and-forth inside my head.

“Say hi.”
“But what if they don’t remember me?”
“Crack a joke.”
“But what if they don’t get it?”
“Reply instantly.”
“Wait, won’t that seem desperate?”

Every move has a counter-move.
Like I’m playing chess, with myself.
And most days, it’s a draw.

Even simple things turn into strategies. Like ordering food. I’ll open the app, scroll for twenty minutes, then order the same thing I always do. Because trying something new feels like a risk. What if I don’t like it? What if I waste my money? What if I regret not going with the usual?

Even in conversations, I hear myself from outside. Like there’s a version of me sitting on the opposite side of the table, raising an eyebrow at every sentence I’m about to say.
"That sounds fake."
"You’re overexplaining."
"That joke doesn’t even make sense."

So I edit in real time.
Sometimes I delete the entire thought.
Leave the conversation mid-sentence. Let silence rescue me again.

It’s not that I don’t want to talk. I do.
I just want the sentence to be perfect before it leaves my mouth.
And by the time it feels ready, the moment’s gone.

You’d think I’m quiet on the outside.
But inside, it’s noisy.
It’s a long corridor of “should I have said that?”
Followed by a library of “what if I had said this instead?”
I’m still replaying a conversation from three months ago because I mispronounced the word architectural.

Sometimes I envy people who can speak without drafting their sentences like emails.
Who doesn’t carry a second voice inside them questioning everything.

But then again, sometimes this voice saves me.
From arguments.
From embarrassment.
From saying things I don’t mean.

So maybe it’s not a flaw.
Maybe it’s just how I live, with a built-in editor.
A chess partner.
A mirror that talks back.

And sure, I lose a few games.
But at least I always know what I could have said.