Fingers type aggressively into the night as I stare at the screen of my phone. A group debate about whether or not applying deodorant to your ****** will stop the chronic itching is being played out We all smile and laugh. For the record, it totally will. The discussion of memes enthrals my mind as I relax into the cotton comforter. The feeling of satisfaction travels through my veins as I embrace the friendship I have and the light, playful conversation taking place.
Anxiety and paranoia settle in and take their well worn places in my mind. Like icy blue dragons, they curl around my thoughts, just waiting for these people who will soon be irrelevant to leave me. The words they type about Harambe have no meaning But the words they think about what I say in return imprison me.
Fear of abandonment creeps in as I swirl the aspects of my personality into a hue that will convince them not to drop me in a ditch. I know, not because I’m afraid, but because I’ve seen it happen, that my trust in them will be burned to ashes eventually and I’ll be yet Another traitor to the fragile glass of friendships that we all hold together. Just waiting for them to use my insecurities against me like a time bomb ticking
Ticking in my ear.
And I can’t see the timer.
But I laugh along. And send a relevant emoji. They laugh at my jokes and I can’t stop thinking about how soon enough they’ll be laughing at Me.