Personal Narrative: Communication With A Girl In High School

Ding! Ding! Ding! chimed the school bell, to some representing the end of just another arduous engagement with the American education system. For me, however, the bells’ tintinnabulation signified the beginning of a different bout. Armed with a bouquet of ravishing red roses, with gallons of perspiration cascading down my freshly groomed face, I stumbled outside. There she stood, her figure like that of a meticulously crafted hourglass, her perfect visage unmarred by a single blemish. In spite of the butterflies parading in my stomach, I garnered the strength to walk up to the girl. As I attempted to speak, my lips quivered vigorously, as if they were sentient beings attempting to retreat from the impossible situation I had placed them in.

Ninth grade was now several months underway, and my complete lack of social mobility had caused both my class participation and friendships to dwindle. My peers dubbed me the “weird kid in class”, and what could I do about it? After all, I couldn’t simply have confronted people and befriended them, as my bashful nature prevented me from doing so. This was especially clear in my communications with girls, as I would often be rendered speechless by fear of hypothetical rejection. One day, however, the very day the beauty and I first swapped glances, I promised myself I would try being more socially active, to amass the courage to one day be with a girl or her caliber, and that I would go out of my way to do things I otherwise would never have had the courage to