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I am a hugger. I want to hug everyone.
I am very aware that not everyone wants to hug, so I refrain from hugging most people. Sometime I do the awkward “one hand and back pat” hug
That refrain turns into not touching people at all, so I end up seeming shy and aloof.
I am shy and aloof, but still a hugger.
I feel the need to say goodbye to everyone when leaving.
I feel the need to hug everyone goodbye when leaving.
It takes forever to go when leaving.
I will say at least one awkward or inappropriate thing.
I do not mean to say this awkward or inappropriate thing.
When I say this awkward or inappropriate thing, it is always way too loud.
I sometimes sing a response.
My voice does not facilitate me singing said response.
I find a way to work geeky stuff into every conversation.
I struggle mightily to not look at boobs.
I feel a twinge of guilt when I look at boobs.
I wonder if people are looking at my boobs.
I should not have boobs.
I think that I am charming and witty.
I don’t think that anyone else thinks I’m charming and witty.
I still want to hug them.
Can I hug you? No? What about the one-handed hug? No? What about a firm handshake?
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You are who are, and that’s okay. 😃
Yep. I can only be the person I’m supposed to be. Though I often dream that I was normal, that I didn’t this madness that surrounds me like miasma. Maybe there’s an alternate me somewhere that’s crazy-free