Cue PTSD to a time back in our home dimension.
It was just near closing time at the diner I worked at. I was gathering up all of the plates, save for one table.
The two girls were still there, one still sneaking glances back over at me. I felt uneasy. I went over to the chef and asked him about them.
"...Kid, you honestly don't know? She likes you!" I quickly looked to her. Our eyes met. She gasped and turned away, much to her friend's amusement.
"Likes ...Me?" I found myself saying. I turned back and thought about it. Why did she like me? Was there something she wanted from me?
"Well, here she comes now. Good luck!" The chef left, and before I could call him back, I heard her clear her throat.
"Excuse me," She said, and hesitated. "But... I was wondering if I could go out with you sometime..."
I should have felt happy.
This is what guys want, right? I tried to think of happy times with her, but I could only think of what it would be like if she left. It obviously showed, because she quickly spoke up.
"Are you... Alright?"
"I'm sorry," I blurted out. "I can't."
Her eyes went wide, then went cold as ice. Her hand came up, and before I could react she slapped me, hard.
"W-well fine! I don't know why I liked you anyway! I'm never coming back to this diner and your stupid face again!" With this, she stormed out. Her friend gave me a similar look, following out.
I could only stare at where she had been. I had shut out more pain by doing that... But I had also sealed myself away from happiness.
I left that diner the next day.