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.

I had never been much of a sociable fellow, and I had preferred to keep my thoughts and opinions to myself throughout middle school.

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

do.
My overwhelming sense of courage was what had brought me before her later that same day, the same sense of courage that had subsequently sprung inside of me due to the overwhelming titillation cast unto me by her lighthearted gaze. As I spoke to her then and there, it mattered not what her name was, nor what was mine. The bouquet I held in my hand seemed almost to vanish, as did the world around me, as I spouted whatever jumbled phrase my lips could muster. The world stood still during those few seconds she took to formulate a response, dragging on like a cold winter’s day, until the moment she smiled and her lips formed the word “yes”.
How the rest of the day went, I couldn’t quite say. What stuck with me, however, was the realization that socializing breeds new possibilities not otherwise conceivable. This girl, whom I broke out of my metaphorical shell for, was but a cog in the machine that is social interaction. She was the first cog to start spinning, and the rest soon followed. My class participation went up as I found a sense of self-confidence; I also managed to accumulate a plethora of friends throughout high school. I now make friends wherever I go, many of whom I develop close personal relationships with. In retrospect, it matters little who the girl I found attractive was, even less so the things we partook in. What truly does remain cemented with me to this day, however, is the ambitious desire to try new things and meet new people; it is a desire that embodies my very foundation of thinking, and it would not have been possible without opening myself to the world, and to the people, around me.