Someone once told me I talked a lot. I was outspoken, and it was a good thing. I was always the one who broke awkward silences, The one who started conversations, Trying to make everyone have a little more fun, A little happier. Someone else told me I talked a lot. Too much in fact. It was annoying, how I talked about things they knew nothing about, How they would zone out once I started talking. 'If you knew what I was talking about, Why would I tell you about it again?' I wondered. Someone once made a face when I shared a story. "I talked too much," she said, "Everyone hated it." 'Okay.' I thought. 'I'll shut up now.' Silence became my best friend for a while. I have to thank those people who introduced us. Perhaps keeping quiet wasn't too bad after all. Someone then told me I was too quiet. We were having a gathering, A somewhat cheerful event. A little too loud for me. Suddenly, there was the peace I wished for. An awkward silence I enjoyed. Eyes turned to me, expecting me to say something like I always did. I didn't. "Why are you so quiet recently? It's so unlike you." Yeah... I wonder why.