Maybe I asked for too much. Before, I was light steps and shallow breaths. Never push too hard, always readied to pull away. I thought I was ok without having friends because I was alone for so long. And then I started to sit with a group at lunch that fit with each other like gears in a machine. I thought I could splice my way in like scientists do with DNA, but the body rejected me. I thought I was ok with being alone, but when I got the chance to have friends, it was overwhelming how much I craved it. I wanted so badly to be friends with you. I thought you were my friends. Maybe not close, but I was working on it. Then when you didn’t invite me to your birthday, I thought that maybe I just wasn’t close enough- but I could work on it! But with a little prodding from someone, I was invited. I thought that I hadn’t forced my way in, that it was ok. I was a little too drunk. I was a little annoying. But I thought we still had fun. I apologized for my behavior. I thought, “next time, I’ll be better”. But there was no next time.
He said I looked like a man and no one said anything. I thought he was nice and cute, so I let it go. But I still thought about it. Do you know what it’s like to feel ugly everyday? This acne mars my face like mountains blemish valleys, like bruises spoil fruit. My sparse eyebrows disperse across my face like weeds in an Arizona desert and are covered with makeup like cheap turf. My hair is compulsively plucked from my head like angels’ wings. I can already see the new bald spots that will call for another shaved head, another failed attempt to grow it out. He said I looked like a man, and no one said anything. And I knew it was true.
I texted you and you never replied. But it seemed like everything was ok when we talked the day before. Then you removed from the group chat. I’m not part of the group, it’s ok, it’s ok. I wonder what he said about me after. I wonder what I did to make me so unbearable.
And the worst part is I still want to be friends, I want to be friends, I want friends. I can’t just forget, and move on, it’s not that simple. I thought I was your friend. The worst part is I’m not mad, I don’t blame you. I won’t sit with you at lunch anymore because I don’t want to annoy you. Maybe I asked for too much. I should have been content at the lunch table. But I wanted more. I asked for too much.
My friends don’t like me. They never did. All this time I thought I was making progress while they figured out a way to break the news that they didn’t want me there. I’m so sorry for being annoying and ugly and abrasive and loud. I was just so excited to be friends. I wish we could be friends.
I don’t want to be alone. I want it to end. How much pain do I have to endure before it’s ok to let go?