“Bars are entertainment only when there’s nothing else to do,” he’s saying. “I haven’t really been in a while. Well, other than the fact that I’ve been haunting the cantina here in Port waiting to run into you.” “I don’t like cantinas,” I say quickly. “Or bars. Too many people.” He nods. “I can see that.” It’s my turn to pick up the conversation again, but my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. I can’t think of anything to say to him. I want to keep this easy, casual conversation flowing and yet I don’t know how. Please, please be my friend. Please be someone that’s there for me.
The struggle of an introvert
