I was hanging out with friends today. They are all a close-knit group. In fact, we all are. And yet, I feel so isolated, so separated from them. I grow paranoid in their presence. My mind is constantly asking questions. Questions of doubt, questions of fear, questions of nervousness. Tonight my mind was racing, contemplating many things. As I return to my room as the rest of my friends continue on with their own lives, I sit here, recalling the questions I asked myself constantly. Behind a face of pure confidence and warm countenance was a wreck, a soul wracked by life’s hardships.

In the beginning, one of my friends was trying to impress a girl. I decided to help him by acting as an assistant, a wingman, of sorts. I stood up for him, gave him advice, practically took bullets when things got rough. As I type, he is upstairs in her room. I don’t care for what lies ahead for them now, but it leaves me wondering where I will one day find love. Alas, I feel as if everything is so superficial, nobody cares about the person as a whole, but rather the person’s shell. Why else do relationships focus solely on appearances and outer affection? Nonetheless, I feel as if I don’t deserve love. My friend played his cards right, and I never play mine correctly. I brought another friend with me to the party, and the girl gave him her number almost immediately. She never gave it to me, after all I did for them. I simply took it in, hiding behind a smile the hurt. I never wanted her number, but when she gives it to people she just met when you did so much…. it just rattles me.

Another girl at the party…. I wanted to impress her. I failed, as expected. My other friend, the one who got the girl’s number, was succeeding. Why is it that I fail at communication? Is it truly my error all along? All this time I blamed others, but I’m more than convinced that it’s my doing. I wish someone would understand the questions I’m asking and honestly mean it. It’s one thing for someone to say "sure, I get you," but does anyone truly get it? Or maybe I’m unlucky. Maybe I’m at the wrong place at the wrong time. The girls I fall for end up in tragic endings. I’ve given up on searching, I just let what comes at me come at me. I stand motionless in the proverbial sea of fish.

And then came the talk of going to a nearby party, where hookah and drinking was taking place. Some of the group accepted, while others were skeptical. I was skeptical. I refuse to drink, and hookah is just about as pointless. One girl said that while she was willing to go through with it, she jokingly warned not to start smoking hookah. I was furious for some reason. People are so weak-willed that they know the harm they are doing to themselves, but refuse to turn back simply because it is the fun and popular thing to do. Have we as a society become so inclined to hurt ourselves for moments of bliss? I have become sick of the party scene. We have become slaves to bottles and whores for drugs. I only got drunk once in freshman year of high school, and from that moment on I realized that the stupidity and weakness of people is a characteristic I cannot share. Let them kill themselves. It’s just that almost everyone I know does it. They feel invincible, responsible, mature. I beg to differ. A girl there was curious about hookah. I felt like telling her no, but the vast majority kept egging her on to do it, encouraging something that we all knew wasn’t the best thing to do. 

I also thought about my reputation amongst my peers. Who am I to them? A pawn? A tag-along? A pest? If I am seen in a negative light, why must I waste my time with them? Why should I burden others with my presence? And if so, must they pretend to like me? Why, is it pity? Is it because I refuse to go to the parties they so long for? 

I sit in my dorm, still searching for questions. I wonder what they are doing right now. Did that girl go through with it? Are they all in a drunken stupor as of right now? As they slowly kill themselves off I ask the final question…. are they wondering what I’m doing right now?