I stand in a circle with these people whom I call friends. A smile plastered on each one of their faces. I can tell they are real from the creases and divits expressed in their expressions. I were a mask that displays contemptment and excitement to be here with these people. Hiding the fact that I’m drained and ready to go home, but they will never know.

The talking is endless. The minutes are stretching. I’m in my head, detached from the talking. Though I make small comments on the conversation as if I’m giving it my full minds attention.

All I want to do is to lay in my bed, rest my head, and my mind, my feet, and my eyes. I’ll prop my beds pillow against the baby blue wall. I lean back as my day floods back. My mind processing it all. I’ll read or I’ll draw. I’ll write and I’ll dream. I’ll scroll on my phone till it’s hot to the touch.

But I’m happy because it’s finally just me, and my cat by my side, and my fan to the right. This is my happy place, the one place where I truly relax. The one place where I’m truly me.