Okay. Okay. I’m calm. I’m chill. I’m so chill I’m practically frozen.

Just a regular, well-adjusted adult sitting alone, totally not consumed by the vague, suffocating sense that something better is happening somewhere else and I am not a part of it.

Love that. Love this for me.

“You can come if you want.”

Oh.

If I want?

Not “you should come” or “we’d love to have you” or “you have to be there, it won’t be the same without you.”

No.

Just 'if' I want.

Okay. Cool. Chill. Normal. Not a big deal.

I didn’t want to go anyway. I’m busy. I have... things. Important things. Like reorganising my cutlery drawer or staring into the void until my eyeballs dry out.

God, what if they actually wanted me there but they didn’t want to seem desperate so they phrased it ambiguously, and now I’ve misread it and I don’t go and then they think I don’t care, and then I’m the one who ruined everything?

Okay breathe.

One. Two. Three. No, too fast. Try again.

Why didn’t they just say they wanted me to come? Is it me? Am I weird? I am weird. I said “you too” to the barista when they said “enjoy your coffee.” That was three years ago but they probably still talk about it at staff meetings.

Okay, but real talk. What are they doing right now? What am I missing? Laughter? Bonding? Inside jokes being born that I will never understand but will still be quoted for the next six years with knowing glances and smug smiles?

Oh remember the thing with the duck??

No. I don’t. I wasn’t there. I was reorganizing my trauma alphabetically.

I’ll check social media. Just real quick.

Nothing yet. That means they’re having so much fun they forgot to post.

Or they’re doing something secret.

Or they’re just waiting until it’s too late for me to go so I can see how much fun they had and regret everything.

God. What if there’s a group photo? What if I’m not in it?

What if I’m being erased in real time like some kind of social circle Thanos snap?

I should’ve gone. I should’ve said yes.

But then I would’ve shown up and they’d all be like, “Oh… you came.”

And I’d have to pretend I was totally fine and not dying inside, and I’d laugh too loudly and drink too fast and smile too much like some kind of haunted Victorian doll just yearning for inclusion.

Ugh. No. I made the right choice.

This is better. Being alone is powerful. I am mysterious. I am enigmatic. I am definitely not refreshing Instagram every 14 seconds like a digital gremlin.

But just in case…

I’ll be fully dressed, emotionally on edge, and staring at my phone until 2 a.m.

You know. In case they change their mind.