10:31 p.m. | 2005-07-22
16 Military Wives
Who am I?
I know, stupid broad question. But seriously. There are 30 people in my living room, kitchen, or outside. There are 30 people who know my name and hug me when they see me. There are 30 people who I'm great at hanging with.
I've always been very good at 'hanging out.' I'm always just sober enough to make clever witted jokes and say funny and smart things and have people cracking up. But the key is not to care or think that you're the center of attention -- you just have to be it.
But instead of being out there using these skills I'm in my room doing this. I'm pretending that all I can hear is this music, and remembering that when I came home all I wanted to do was watch a movie.
I'm here, by myself basically. I don't identify with this culture. I don't like being drunk, it doesn't feel good to me. I feel like throwing up as is, I don't need to add vodka to this mix. I want to hold my head and cry and make everything better by morning.
Which reminds me, what happened to those times? Where I would cry my eyes out and the next morning the birds would be chirping, the temperature perfect and I'd look just gorgeous. Now, I still have puffy eyes, I have overdrawn smiles, and all these moments of upset. Nothing is better the morning after -- just more clear.
I feel like every one around me is happy and I'm the only one looking around at the hopelessness of the situation. I feel like I'm the only one who realizes that we all could just fail.
Am I the only one?
