A stranger's arm touched mine on the bus this morning and I pulled back so fast I knocked my elbow against the window. The man looked at me. I looked at the floor. My heart was going faster than it should have been for something so small. The whole rest of the ride I kept my arms pressed against my sides and stared at my phone, and when I got off I felt relieved in a way that was disproportionate. Relieved to not have to be near anyone.

I have spent so much time in rooms by myself that other people have started to feel like interruptions. Not in a mean way. More like a signal I haven't been receiving for so long that the sudden noise of it startles me. I think I have been drifting out of the habit of being physically near anyone. And the longer it goes on, the harder it is to remember that I used to be fine in a crowd. Were you ever someone who liked sitting close to people? What happened to that?