hat's why I've been hiatus. Shit hit the fan; I didn't take it too well. Maybe I'll write about that stuff at some point in the future, but no guarantees.
Let's get back to business, shall we?
So, my mother decided to host a birthday party for her friend. Although her crowd's idea of a birthday party has included strippers in the past, the approach tonight was more subtle. Just a quiet night in with a few friends from the neighborhood, home cooked foods, a cake, and a lot of wine. No men, just the ladies. Since I'm home for break, my mother invited me to take part, apparently feeling guilty to not be spending time with me. Despite the caddy drama that ensued after the hanger-on decided to bring her 6-year-old child along with her, the evening was very lovely. Lots of laughter, good food, good conversation, stories and jokes were flying. Once the cake came out, the birthday girl raised her glass and made a toast so moving, it brought tears to my eyes.
Her back-story, she is finally conquering breast cancer. After fighting it for years, she is clear and about to have her port removed. She is turning 51 this year, but due to the cancer, she did not want to celebrate her 50th last year. So not only was this party a "Yay, you're 50 (belated)" party, but a "You beat cancer and we couldn't be happier" party.
Obviously, I don't remember the speech verbatim, but I'll do my best to put it back in her words.
"I just want to thank you all so much for this evening. After my whole ordeal, I've learned just how incredibly lucky I am. I've re-evaluated so much in my life and have realized that there is very little that is genuinely important to me. Besides my family, of course, the only other thing that truly matters is my friends. You girls. I can't say I would have made it without you all. I cannot stress enough how much you all mean to me and how much of a difference a few good friends can make in someone's life. So thank you all, thank you, thank you endlessly. For this party, for being there for me, for supporting me through this all, for just being my friends. I love you all, truly."Everyone around the table nodded in agreement and I knew the sentiment was mutual.
Her speech was beautiful, impromptu, and so genuine that of course I felt it and believed it. And everyone has those few close friends they can go to for anything. But her speech got me thinking--who would these people be in my case? Do I even have these friends? Do I have anyone who truly cares about me the way this room cares for this woman? And honestly, I'm not entirely sure that I do.
When I thought about it, I can only think of two friends who would come if I called, but that's about it. Maybe three, but I'm not sure. I'm so used to being the third wheel in groups, being the one that doesn't really make a difference, that I guess I stopped trying and stopped caring. I've realized through the past few years that my groups of friends never really cared about me. If they made plans, I was never personally invited. I'd only be invited if I contacted the host myself or if one random person happened to remember me. Generally though, I had to ask to be included in anything. I was never missed. My absence was not an issue, my presence was not a pleasure--I was just a whatever. And this trend has continued into college. I thought for sure things would change once I moved away from home and was immersed in a new environment, but things are the exact same. While Malibu and Ritz go NUTS for each other and freak out when they're separated, they could care less whether I'm with them or away from them. My roommate never comes into our room to just sit and chill and talk, but always goes to Ritz's, where Malibu will always be too. They sit there for hours and I just wait to see if maybe they call for me or anything. And they just never do. There are a million examples I could share, but I don't want to dive into too much detail.
Have I not made an impact on the lives of my friends? Am I just not an interesting, fun enough person? What is it that I'm doing wrong that makes people completely apathetic towards me? I don't know. I don't know why my social life is the way it is and the way it has been for years. I don't know who would be sitting at the table with me forty years from now drinking wine and toasting my cancer survival. Perhaps I'm not meant to know yet and that'll all come with time and settling down somewhere.
It just makes me nervous to see the people around me all so deeply tied into relationships. I am the only single person left in my entire family. Many of my friends are dating and if not, they have that solid, core group of friends. I don't have either. Yes, I have my family, but I can't rely on them for everything. I need to break away and become my own person. It makes me incredibly nervous that I'm truly doing something horribly wrong. Don't get me wrong, I couldn't be happier for the ones in my life that have that security and those relationships. And I hope that my friends view me as one of those people, as someone they would sit at their tables and drink away with because I most certainly would go to the end of the earth and beyond for them if they ever called. I just hope that--when my time comes--I'll have a bottle of red, a bottle of white, and those amazing friends filling my kitchen table.
I'll come when you call,
The A.S.S.
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