I’m Lonely and Sad Right Now

I’m sitting on my couch. It’s May. Monica is sitting next to me, face down in a pillow, fast asleep. Tehya is on her other side, crying to the lyrics of The Story of Tonight streaming down the tv screen. Victoria (from Virginia) is on the rug making a tower with her empty bottles of Cayman Jacks. Victoria (from Texas) and Angely are sitting opposite of us in the kitchen, laughing how different Tehya and Victoria (from Virginia) are when they get drunk. Diana is sitting next to me, as we both quietly wonder what the apartment is going to sound like when we are the only two left. This is the last night we will all be together.

I’m sitting on my couch. It’s December. Victoria (from Texas) texts me to cancel our plans, but at least tries to find a solution. My text to Dj sits in the delivered column. My texts with Brianna and Alyson and Jules float farther down to the bottom of my iMessage list everyday. The Popeyes Plans group chat sits silent for days on end. I sit on my couch, and I’m alone.

I’m crying in my room. It’s October. My boyfriend and I break up, and Dj is the first person I call. I hadn’t made any friends after most of mine moved back home in May. I hadn’t really wanted to. He’s the first friend I’ve made. We’re double trouble, inseparable at work and inseparable out of work. We’re the greatest of friends for the time being.

I’m crying in my room. It’s December. After fighting on my birthday (my fault), we made up. Water under the bridge, everything’s okay, we’re all good. That was the agreement. I come home from work, I saw Dj there. I waved, I said hi, I say almost nothing else. We don’t really talk anymore. There is nothing I can do to fix that.

I’ve been feeling really lonely lately. My friends from home make group chats and plans and go on outings and roadtrips as I watch them from my phone in my bed. They don’t tell me these things. We don’t really talk about anything at all. I don’t know how school is or how work is or how life is. Maybe this is my fault for moving away. I miss my friends from home.

I decided not to move back home. My parents are upset. They do not cheer when I tell them I got an offer, they do not show excitement or pride. They say okay, and that is all. They do not hold my hand or provide reassurance when I tell them I’m anxious to receive my role. They say, you haven’t thought this through, and that is all. They do not care that I’m disappointed in my role. They tell me I should just move back home. Or they don’t say anything, and that is all. I tell them I feel this way. They do not respond to me. They do not plan visits anymore. They do not try to come visit me anymore. They do not call anymore.

I still miss my sister.

Brandon doesn’t call me and ask if I’m busy. He doesn’t come over to make cookies. Brooke comes home and goes to her room. She doesn’t tell me about her day or hang out on the couch anymore. Derek and I are thick as thieves at work still, yet haven’t done anything outside of it recently. It takes Victoria a few days to text me back. No one has come over to bake cookies.

I want to say I’m taking it personally. I am taking it personally. It’s December. The few friends I have left are with their families or they’re working or they’re just busy. Brandon has called once, Victoria did come over once. I’m taking it personally. I want to say I’m taking it personally, but it is personal. It’s my fault. I don’t know why. But this is what makes sense to me, because if it wasn’t my fault, if I wasn’t the problem, then everyone wouldn’t have stopped talking to me. My favorite coordinator left work, for good, and didn’t say goodbye. I watched her say goodbye to everyone else. She didn’t say goodbye to me. My other favorite coordinator never riffs with me anymore. We used to talk a lot. We don’t really talk a lot now. It feels personal. It feels abrasive. I have to take it personally. It’s not just my friends, then.

I miss my parents, I miss my friends. That’s all.

xoxo, Willianny