I’m agonising with yet another predicament. Shock horror right!
Liz’s little man is to be christened this coming weekend and as much as I adore them, I can’t seem to enthuse myself into making an appearance.
Firstly, I have nothing becoming to wear, nor decent enough to mask the hardships and troubles that plague. You know, to keep up with the farce that I am prospering. And secondly it’s nervousness towards the people in attendance that holds all excitement at bay. I’m more than a little uneasy about being enclosed with a slew of people who once had my back, but now are utterly stoic around my ostracised self.
It would be like marching into the lion’s den and bequeathing myself for their heinous consumption.
Almost three years ago now was when I last saw them. At a Kitchen Tea Party prior to Liz’s wedding and where I was virtually shunned to a corner and dumped by the doorway. No one dared a glance in my direction, nor did they utter a single sound to me. With exception to Liz’s mother and her apprehensive older sister who made zero effort to disguise her inconvenience in wasting breath upon my good self. It was both distressing and humiliating to say the least, especially knowing full-well that you originally were not welcome nor wanted there. You know, considering how my once close friends failed to mail me an invitation in the first place.
Funny story! It was Liz who summoned me a day prior, indignant because I hadn’t RSVP’d. Only to promptly retract her fury when she uncovered someone in the bridal party had “forgotten” to include me in the first place. Same thing occurred a week later for her bachelorette. I obviously chose not to be present since I wasn’t keen on petty “high school” drama. It wasn’t seen as favourable nor noble move on my part for Liz but in my eyes, this was her night and I didn’t want my presence to hinder festivities nor lace the air with undesirable tension.
And here I am again, quaking over contemplation of attending another important life event of hers. And all because of the speculated actions of a few callous souls.
Will they dramatically gasp in revolution and surprise as I step through the threshold? Will they all slowly turn to face and glare at the intruder being me?
Or will they just overlook me? Swivel about to observe my presence and make a point in expressing their disdain over my arrival with ghastly eye rolls and snickering remarks? Pick me apart with their silent words and harsh gazes unraveling the threads of my secretively bargain and no-name shirt?
Sarcastic mocking in my choice of inappropriate attire.
This is how l I foresee my ubiety at this christening. Grievances and uncomfortableness towards her guests and family is what I’ll no doubt bring. I imagine I’ll be resigned to the back pew, all on my lonesome and all without a single glance of acknowledgement. Then again I may very well be approached by a friendly fellow, pitifully like a bird with a broken wing all because they felt the desire to keep me company whilst everyone else mingled within their cliques. Though I strongly believe I’ll simply be ignored and rejected in a ”mean girls” fashion, since that is what they all do best. And anyway, if any greeting were to be exchanged I know whole-heartedly that the approaching party would put on an insulting fake front.
Fake condescending smiles and words dripping with false sincerity and pleasantries, probably in hopes of reeling some brunch fodder and gossip to laugh at behind my back later on.
And then there is my story. What do I tell these people anyway? I can paint an incredibly lucrative scene and future but the thing is Liz knows the true tale. Granted not so much the harsh realities but more of a slightly bleaker portrait with a dainty white lace veiling the actual truths.
It is there, in plain sight, I’m just not entirely sure she’s actually identified it.
It is for this sole reason that I vehemently decided against attending the reception, choosing to attend just the church festivities. But that still doesn’t make attending any easier. And as much as my intuition is flashing its danger signals, I can’t peddle another excuse to her because our friendship has seemingly gotten back on track these last few months and I feel like my absence would cause a greater and unrepairable rift between the delicate fabric of our friendship.
So what the hell do I do?!
I wish I had a significant other to bring along with me because I do not want to go alone. And I’m dreading the thought of standing awkwardly detached in a corner, mentally repeating a spiel about how incredible my life is right now, painting that picture of a successful writer and jet-setter should anyone dare to greet and speak to me. And at the same time, feeling miserable and heartbroken since deep down I know I’ll never get the opportunity to announce such words since everyone else is more than content with unabashedly ignoring me. But in reality any real conversation directed to me will be fake.
Fake smiles and fake hellos.