there're lots of ways to say "hi" to someone; lots of ways to greet a familiar face or make a good first impression.
in a lot of ways, there's a lot riding on that initial "hi"; it can serve as the basis of a new relationship or spark some kind of tension; it can comfort someone in his/her time of need or imply just the right level of authority; it can be the first of many memories to come.
whenever i approach someone for the first time (rather, whenever i'm approached by someone for the first time), i can't help but think about all the weight tied to my "hi." when i sense a necessary greeting getting closer (that is, when i see someone slowly making their way towards me), all i can do is try to will myself to avoid or hide my inherent awkwardness with the hopes of maybe convincing this new person that i'm anything but awkward.
or nerdy.
or weird.
or wildly uncomfortable.
so i pre-game (or try to), and try to envision the perfect "hello" with which i plan to blow this person's mind.
oh man, i tell myself, they're gonna think i'm so cool.
because, at least, according to my subconscious (which, of course, is the subconscious of someone who enjoys making obscure Harry Potter references and watching things like Ken Burns' The Civil War in her free time), silent pep talks merit "cool" status.
but then i notice that the person i'm determined to impress with my awesome is, in fact, getting closer - a fact that's, unfortunately, directly proportional to my growing anxiety and forgetfulness.
the icy hott "hello" that i'd so carefully choreographed - the one with the smooooth handshake, the even smoooother "hey," and the nonchalant grin - goes out the window and i find myself desperately scrambling around for the scraps of what was to be the new, cool Vickie.
and, while i was blanking out and trying to remember everything i'd practiced, there they are and, in the words of Christina Aguilera, suddenly it's hard to breathe.
now and then i get insecure...
from all the pain...
i'm so ashamed...
...and i can't remember the rest, and i realize that i only just managed to prevent myself from singing the few lines of "Beautiful" i know aloud instead of returning the greeting the person (who's now standing right in front of me) just extended.
and my super-cool "hello" becomes something more of a high-pitched squawk followed by an awkward handshake or spastic wave and, for the majority of the rest of the conversation, i'm forced to subconsciously relive and overanalyze the horror that was my typical, nerdy "hello" and wonder if the other person cottoned on to said nerdiness.
worse still is the fact that, once i finally manage to come to terms with the proverbial spilled milk, i have to start thinking about the impending "good-bye."
if hellos are important because they're the first impression you make on someone else, good-byes are important because they're the last, most recent memory or mark the other person will have of you when you part ways.
so i go through the whole anxious planning cycle all over again, with much of the same results, and i wonder if i'll ever succeed in out-growing my awkwardness.
that being said, there're definitely times when i completely abhor my social-ineptness, but there're also moments when i convince myself that there're even worse things to worry about.
recently, someone i was close to for a number of years (starting in 6th grade and lasting through 10th) died in a car accident.
i'm not one who's openly afraid of death and all that it implies: i'm well aware of the fact that it's a natural cycle, blah blah blah, and that "the other side" isn't something to fear or oppose.
what i have trouble coping with is the idea that, well, one moment someone you've known, cared about, talked to, laughed with - someone who's existed and grown and had personality and thoughts and feelings - could suddenly just (physically, at least) cease to exist. they're gone, forever.
and you never even got to say, "good-bye."
and you wish you had, regardless of how nerdy or awkward it may have been.
looking back, i can't even remember what our final good-bye was like.
when she transferred to a different high school, and i moved to Mexico, things just sort of drifted into a sad, detached, "see you when i see you" kind of relationship and, apart from the occasional "hey" on myspace or facebook, our friendship basically disintegrated.
after i found out that she had died, i immediately regretted not keeping in touch with her as much as i probably should've done. i wished that we'd said proper "good-byes" before we'd gone our separate ways.
but in the long run, i've come to think that maybe the good-bye we did manage to make was as it should've been.
there's something more romantic in thinking that our last "good-bye" was nothing special because neither of us suspected that it was to be, in fact, our very last "good-bye" - that we expected there to be many more "hellos" and "good-byes" to follow, so there was no need to make a big deal out of that particular one.
we were optimistically looking ahead.
i guess some people would consider that "taking a moment for granted" or "that every good-bye should be a special good-bye" because you never know which one'll be your last.
but i don't like thinking about finalities, or in terms of finalities.
finalities are so pessimistic - looking towards the end of something instead of the next-time.
i can't live that way.
my hellos and good-byes're plenty loaded and troublesome, thanks, without considering something as morbid and heartbreaking as death.
i miss her, and i wish we'd had more time together, but i don't regret the way we said "good-bye." she was a wonderful and beautiful person, and i'm grateful for the time we did manage to have together, and there was nothing wrong with assuming that we'd see each other again.
so i'm going to try to worry less about my hellos and good-byes from now on.
granted, i know my awkwardness and social skills need some help, but i'm working on it.
it's way more meaningful, i think, to always hope for a next time.
Some music:
1. "Beautiful," Christina Aguilera
just because i alluded to it. i may or may not love this song a little too much.
2. "Come Here," Kath Bloom
this video is really, really, really cheesy, but it's also the only one on youtube that has the entire song. this is one of the most romantic songs i've ever heard, and in the movie Before Sunrise it's in one of the most romantic scenes i've ever secretly enjoyed. and it kind of hits close to home. about the whole "timid" thing, i mean.
3. "Slow Show," The National
speaking of being timid and anxious...
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