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A Cute True Story

More than fifty years ago, my mother's father went to a dance. Back then that was how you met people.

The room was divided into two sides. The guys were standing near one wall, and the girls were at the other. In the middle were a few couples dancing, but more prominent was the wide open space that separated the two groups.

No man's land.

Social Momentum, Assuming Value, And Eliminating Outcome Dependence

On Cameron Chardukian

Homecoming is an interesting high school tradition. It’s a time when hundreds of overly stressed high school students come together and are able to be completely free, dance, and let loose once a year.

Or, for many introverts it’s a depressing time where they’re forced to examine their social skills and the absolute awkwardness of their behavior. I’ve experienced Homecoming from both perspectives, and though a lot of tears were shed during my awkward times they were also instrumental in producing the emotional leverage that catapulted me into being able to experience social abundance and have the best night of my life this past Homecoming.

Freshmen year I gathered the courage to ask a beautiful girl to Homecoming and she said yes. I was a bit of a goof, and try-hard back then, but we still had a lot of fun together and despite my shyness on the dance floor I still danced with a couple girls, but I’d get jealous whenever another guy would dance with my date.

Sophomore year’s Homecoming was one of the roughest nights of my life. I didn’t decide until the last minute that I was going to go, and when I got there I completely trapped myself in the head. I didn’t dance with a single girl, and I spent the majority of the night standing alone on the outskirts of the dance floor in a self-loathing state while enviously watching the rest of my peers having the night of their lives. I even saw my dream girl standing alone at one point, and had the perfect opportunity to dance with her, but I was being such a bitch I wasn’t able to do even that. The night ended with me going to my venting buddy’s after party, having a nervous break down, and crying about how I’ve never loved anyone or been loved back. Ouch.

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