“Pull yourself together! Get a grip already!”
Oh, the number of times I’ve mumbled this to myself in between attempting to sew my thoughts into organized tapestry and making a complete fool out of myself.
Many are familiar with the situation: you’re with someone you like, at that stage of your still unconfessed (if ever) passion for each other, and trying to disperse the sexual tension in the air. So what do you do? Naturally, sprinkle a glass of sparkling awkwardness. Whether it’s an unrelated, out-of-the-blue sentence, a misplaced glance, a nervous gesture, or forced silence (that awful awful silence), it seems that I, like many human beings, have been programmed to excel in awkwardness – it comes so very naturally I rarely need to work at it.
So I’ve decided to embrace my awkwardness. No, mine isn’t the “if you can’t beat them, join them” retreat. It is the victor’s stance. The almighty’s final say. That’s because, to begin with, I’ve created awkwardness, not it me. Secondly, I develop it in as many different directions as I see fit. I can play with it as I please.
Of course, the only thing I cannot control is its death. Once I let it out into the world, it becomes its own master, and its only killer. As long as awkwardness decides to live, no one can stop it. The only option you have is to convince it of committing suicide.
But here’s what I’ve learned about it: it rarely feels the urge to take its own life, no matter what you tell it. It’s a survivor and an ignorer of other’s opinions. Very self-confident – which is probably due to its cheerful attitude. For whenever I try to quiet it down, it laughs heartily and mischievously announces that it’s ready for another round. These observations have lead me to appreciate this creation of mine – a perpetual dancer, clinging to life like a madman flees it.
So here’s a cheers to my Awkwardness.
I say: Blend with it! And if it causes you too much trouble, join it in its laughter, turning yourselves into two little naughty boys, giggling fearfully at their neighbour’s stolen apricots.
It’s a part of you, it’s beautiful.
awkwardness is a lake reflecting the whiteness of the trees
