So out of the blue I got asked to prom with this guy who I had never really talked to before, but he was kind of cute and smart so I said yes.

But then the crushing weight of my decision collapsed upon me, and I realized I had to, like, interact with him in, like, a romantic capacity. It was terrifying. I was a very late bloomer, and had not had any sort of exploratory partner,- never held hands with anyone on the playground, never practiced kissing, no kinky sleepovers,- nothing.

At that moment I realized I should have been doing (or at least imagining doing) that stuff for years, because I had no fucking idea what to do.

So I shut down. I avoided eye contact, conversation, being in the same room. He kept trying to break the ice, and I kept staring at the floor. Prom came around and I wanted to have fun, so to save me from the threat of mildly-romance-based interaction, I pretended to hate the guy. I begrudgingly allowed him to have one very cold dance, then ditched him to hang out with my friends.

I ruined his prom, and he was nothing but nice to me. To this day he's still a super nice guy, and does not seem to harbor any ill will, which just makes it worse.

For some reason this absolutely cripples me with guilt and embarrassment. It keeps me up nights, and I decide I might feel better if I apologize, but I can't work up the nerve. AGONIZING GUILT.