Left out
You know, like that take out, or a forgotten extra boiled egg. Doesn’t do any favours to food…it spoils.
Best attempt I could make at a joke. But still literally watching people I’d consider friends have fun without me, looking at pictures wondering why I’m not there. Just imagining running into some of them, as I have in the past, being asked if or why not I wasn’t there, and just having to go
”Well, I wasn’t invited.”
Their horror stricken face at their own social fou par. The awkwardness that ensues.
The feeling of seeing myself left out feels pretty much like an icey hammer to the chest. It’s almost enough to make me cry.
”But if I should feel bitter about any time that I’m left out, I’d be a pretty horrible person by now right?” – sly smile, evil glint in my eye.
I think of the favours I have in stock for those people…my friends. And ice grips me again. I wanna retract it all. No coffee dates. No shared notes. No calls. I don’t have time to be a friend to others who aren’t to me. Well, time I have. Cause I’m sitting at home alone on a Saturday night. But the sentiment is the same.
I’m not a masochist. I don’t enjoy pain. And this right here is painful. Even though I look at the pictures twice. And wanting more. Wanting to see why I don’t fit into the image.
Don’t they like me? Am I too fat or ugly or annoying to fit in?
I breath harshly in through my nose.
Really, I need to centre myself. Remember it doesn’t matter. Or even if it does I can’t change their perception of me. Focus on people who are able to like me back. I understand them about as well as I understand the ones that apparently don’t. So I should just enjoy it. Save my favours for those people.
The stone in my throat lessens.
I know not why. And it’s not okay, but it has to be, cause that’s enough. Refocus on my happiness, and own enjoyment. My night was fine until that picture popped up. I shouldn’t compare my fineness towards someone else’s.
Deep breath.
And focus forward
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