Friendiness was never something that came naturally to me. I am and always have been more of a straight-shooter, so to speak, less inclined to use finesse and “charm” than to just be straightforward and artless in my initial approaches to people. So much for first impressions. I don’t think the fact that I’m tall and intimidating (so I’ve been told) helps matters either. I’m not overly concerned about these things, though.
A memory from four years ago: Somehow I found my way into the room where the youth group was to take place. Arriving, I was bewildered by new faces and put up my reflex facade of slight aloofness, wandering around the room a bit. People were coagulating into cliques; refreshments were being distributed around me. I was approached by several faces doing their duty to greet the newcomer. They wandered away to mingle after a few minutes. The meeting was about to begin when Sarah walked through the door. I breathed in deeply; she was in my drama group and the first familiar countenance I’d seen. She was another loner, homeschooled too, and very responsible, if not the life of the party. She always laughed, even if softly, at my attempts at humor, and I recognized the beauty of her demeanor almost as soon as I had met her. She sat by me during the whole youth group meeting, looked uncomfortable at the proceedings when I felt it (they were far more charismatic than I was used to), and offered a warm glance every now and then. Afterwards I walked her out to her car. It was cold, and my sleeves have never come all the way down my arms. We stood there, talking perched on the hood of her car, for an hour or so, affirming the similarities of our spirits. She never returned my affections from what I could tell, and departed my sphere of life just as gracefully as she had entered it.