Dammit, I'm confused.

Normally, even when I'm not being honest with myself, I know that I'm not being honest with myself. When I tell myself I'm not going to do something, I know whether I'm really going to do it, and my wiser self remarks on it. For instance, I knew going into NaNoWriMo this time that I wasn't actually going to follow through on it. I started, and halted, just as I knew I would.

However, I went down to North Carolina for the past couple of days to help my mother, who's down there as part of a clinical trial. On the second leg of the flight back, there was a really nice girl, and I struck up a conversation, just like that.

I've never been able to do that with strangers, especially strange girls. I'm honest with myself: I know exactly why. I'm afraid of rejection. There are lots of other excuses I give myself, but I'm really just terrified.

I have no idea why I was comfortable talking to this girl and not the other ones. Is it because I was going to be next to her for that hour flight, and then never going to see her again? That would seem like the logical answer, but something about it seems wrong.

Was I actually interested in her? It's entirely possible, but that usually just increases my inability to talk. Besides, it just seemed like a normal conversation; I thought about taking the conversation further, but a) the fear kicked in, b) she didn't seem interested in the same things as me (namely computers and the arts), and c) I just wasn't really feeling what I normally feel when I'm interested. I spent more time looking out the plane window than at her, and when I'm interested, I'm obsessed, and when I'm obsessed, I stare. I didn't.

Could it be that I actually knew I had no chance? I doubt it. I was contemplating asking her out for a while there, and I don't remember thinking "I have no chance." Does that indicate anything?

Numerous thoughts keep intruding with ideas: Could I be gaining confidence? Was I just that desperate to talk to someone? Do I actually think of women as people I can talk to, instead of instruments of rejection? Was it because we had similar laptops? Could it be because I wasn't really interested, and felt I had no stake in the matter? ARRRGH! I'm looking below the roiling, hypocritical surface of my thoughts, at the rock of certainty below, and that rock is absent.

Normally I can look beneath the surface of my thoughts and feel confident I know what's going on in there. I may not be willing to admit it, even to myself, but I know what's happening.

Why, suddenly, could I talk to this woman? After years upon years of shyness around women, what happened?
What the hell is going on in my head?