Scales of the Dragon

For my dragon the scales were weight,
making me unattractive, unlovable,
not someone to be sought out
so people would not know I couldn't
remember their names, certainly not
those of their family members.
Added were the crumbs, wrappers,
detritus of life making my car a pigsty.
People spoke often of my giggle
which in my mind meant they saw me
as habitually maniacally laughing.
Surely I was a social pariah 
people sought to avoid at all costs.
I certainly didn't seek out conversations...
I would have said it was to not intrude.
My dragon scales worked well
until I promised a counselor 
I would try Overeaters Anonymous
and getting involved in a worldwide group
of mostly O.A. members I was astounded
people did want to know me,
even those I could see face-to-face.
Twelve years have passed since then
and the dragon scales sloughed off long ago.
The dragon, too, took an exit,
and I can understand I'm an introvert
and when I don't participate in a conversation
it's quite short but not because they 
would choose better friends.