I waited for two hours, and no one came to the bar.
They said they would be there. My phone’s battery died. I couldn’t call, only hope. No one came.
It’s been suggested that I move through the feelings. I should feel it. The disappointment. The anger. The melancholy. I waited two hours. No one came.
“Surely they’ll be here soon.”
No one came.
I waited for two hours.
They didn’t think about me in the moment. I heard about the plans through a mutual friend. I only received an invitation when I asked about the details of the party. The plans were changed more than a week prior, and I was only informed the day of. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” but I did, because I care about her. And I took a day off from my second job as a waiter, because I won’t see her again for a long time because she’s going abroad, but no one came. I’m in trouble at work for only wanting to work weekends, and then taking a random day off. No one came. I spent hours making a beautiful collage which celebrates our friendship. No one came. They went to a restaurant about a hundred meters from the bar I was waiting at. When I got home and charged my phone, I had no message, no missed calls. They forgot about me. It was like I was an afterthought. No one came, and it broke my heart. I don’t like being invited anywhere because of pity. I always feel out of place. Every time I go out with friends it feels like they have whole lives and I’m only grasping mine by the tips. I sat alone for two hours because no one came. I feel like an idiot. I should have done something, but I don’t know what. I went to a two different bars to look for them. I dropped off the gift at her university residence. I was half expecting her to pitch up, “Oh hey, we were just leaving. Sorry about not letting you know.” There was no such message. No excuse. No one with me. They were all having fun, without me. No one came and I was left to stew in my own thoughts. I wonder what I did to be such a background character. I thought I had a bigger impact on my close friends’ lives, but it seems I don’t. I’m an afterthought to most.
It was a series of unfortunate events, and it probably won’t happen again, but I still feel it. It still hurts. No one came. I am important, but not to them. I don’t want to be forgotten. I don’t want to be someone who is no one. I don’t want to be someone who achieves nothing. I don’t want to be a supporting-character in everyone I meet’s lives. I’m just as good as other people.
But no one came, for two hours. I sat alone.
And I left alone.
And still, I am.
-Charlton, 29 July 2019