Silly Plights.

I left my apartment late with good news. I arrived at cabaret late and paid $5. My friends were supposed to pay too, but they didn’t. I watched one hour of a two and half hour cabaret when the friends I was standing with wanted to leave. I thought I was invited to meet them afterward, but when I pulled into the grocery store parking lot, my friend texted to say I should go home. It wasn’t to be mean.

So, I drove home and tried to be an adult and ignore my anxiety and rejection. I took a bath and wasted my brain on short-form content.

I just want to be with people who are my friends, and I don’t want to be anywhere I don’t feel welcome. I’ve been chasing for years, and every time I have it, I’m wrong. I am the plan B, the b-side, second best, last recruit. I don’t think it’s a story I tell myself.

I just looked up, even though I shouldn’t have, what music a ghost is listening to. We are listening to tracks off the same album. Somehow, we’ve aligned even with this distance.

Tonight, I did not share my good news. I forgot because of cabaret. I forgot because I tried not to cry on the way home. I found out ten minutes into my bath it was unnecessary, but unfortunately, these are not feelings you can take back. You can’t, and still, I have to swallow them.

Let it be like Advil.