Elena Ferrante: why am I always the last to leave a party?

Separating from people seems like a blast of cold air. I suppose I feel the anguish of loss

I belong to that category of people who, after a dinner, after a party, are the last to leave. It's hard to say why - it's not clear even to me. I know that my hosts are tired and would like to go to sleep. I'm well aware that, even if I left right away, it would still take them an hour or so to straighten things up and get ready for bed. Yet I continue to ask questions and wait for answers - in short, to keep the conversation going. I don't do it because the evening has been especially pleasant and I want to prolong it. I'm not generally very sociable on occasions like this; I join conversations timidly and am quite sure that, after an hour, anyone can read in my face that I'm tired, falling asleep.

I deduce from this that my problem is leave-taking itself. I don't like to separate from people; even in the most superficial relationships, separating seems like a blast of cold air. I suppose I feel the anguish of loss. But what am I losing?