Alone. Although I was surrounded by friends I had never felt more alone. I first noticed it in eighth grade, but when we got to high school it became obvious. It was like I was a placeholder, saving the spot of someone unknown. Feeling like an outsider; invisible and ignored, with people I had known most of my life.
I was the friend who didn’t get an invitation when there was a “limited” amount. I was the friend that walked on the grass when the sidewalk was too small. I was the friend who would stand when there wasn’t enough seats during lunch. I was the friend that took the pictures, but wasn’t in them. I was the friend that didn’t get the memo about when to wear what. I was the friend that they “forgot” to add to the group chat.
Despite all of that, I still somehow thought they cared about me. Maybe it was because I was also the friend that they came to for the homework answers. I was the friend they came to, when they wanted to rant. I was the friend they talked to when they needed advice. I always told myself that things would be different. They’ll grow, they’ll change, things will be better, it's a new year.
But they never did. I was always excluded, or forgotten. I felt horrible and began to wonder why this was happening. So I searched for a reason. Maybe it was something I’d done, maybe it’s me, maybe I need to change. But I already didn’t feel like myself, I had already changed so much.
If there was a cause, I couldn’t find it, I still didn’t understand. But it didn’t bother me, at least not anymore. They began to fade out of view, for I had turned to look in a different direction. I had met someone, someone who made me forget about how they made me feel, someone who made me happy, someone I could be myself with. Something new and exciting had begun.
Lonely nights turned into long talks. Dull weekends into date nights. Taking the long way home for those extra five minutes. You smiling, and turning the radio louder so I can sing along, because you liked to listen to my voice. The feeling of your arms around me when we were looking at the stars and listening to the waves crash on the shoreline. Sadly, like most things, it didn’t last.
At first, it was hard to breathe, everything reminded me of us, of what we used to have. I tried to not think about it, still I couldn’t help but wonder if you felt the same, how can you not? It’s not like you were faking it when we were together, right? Is it even possible?
When I was broken and in pain, doubting myself and my worth, looking for comfort from people I thought were my friends. “You’ll be fine”, “You’ll get over it” was all they said. But it wasn't until she tried to be your next, that I realized, it had to end. I could endure the passive aggressive behavior, and exclusion; but hearing her bolster and brag about you, I wouldn’t be able to listen to that.
It was a new year. I was not going to think about them. I was going to make new friends. I was going to distract myself. I was going to put on a brave face. I was not going to let them know they hurt me. So I threw myself into my work. I looked for an escape between the pages of a book. I focused my energy on anything that kept me busy.
It was the end of the year. I had reconnected with an old friend, someone on whom I can depend, someone who genuinely cares about me. We started spending more time together and we grew close. She opened my eyes to the truth, things that deep down I knew, but I didn’t want to admit. She may not know it, but she saved me. When others ignored, excluded, and broke me down, she listened to me and helped me see my worth. She welcomed me into her friend group where I met and got to know others who’s friendship is sincere.
Sparks of an old flame flickered. And a few midnight mistakes later, secrets surfaced. The bitter cold, and screaming winds of winter extinguished the fire, and realization came with the pouring rain.
It’s a new year. I’m happier, healthier. I have friends I can rely on. Friends who are there for me. Friends who show up. Friends who care about me. Things are better, It’s a new year.
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