A Sandwiched Cheesecake Story

It was my friend Ari's 23rd birthday today so we went to Cheesecake Factory to celebrate. I was early (the last time I was early to something was my birth ba-dum-tss ). I sat alone and wrote their birthday note. I reflected on how my community changed so drastically over the past five years. 

When I went home for Christmas my junior year of college I felt an immense need to please my parents. I found myself wanting to have things to tell them and to be how I remembered my brother (Jordan) at my age: rambling off stories with a wide variety of characters and activity. I felt wronged. I was always the extroverted one and it didn't make sense to me how he could have that kind of community and I couldn't. There were extenuating circumstances that restricted my ability and confidence in making friends though. I was in a controlling relationship, I lived off campus (while Jordan never did), I was probably not doing the best mentally, and I was working at two jobs. I felt embarassed to see the friends I did have because I knew they disliked my boyfriend and it felt awkward. I didn't want to get lectures about breaking up with him. Because of all this, I ended up lying to my parents. I made up stories about old friends and occasionally altogether fictionalized friends. Sometimes they bring up stories that didn't happen. Its a strange thing to hear.

Today we sat at a table with 13 placemats. I have memories and relationships with each person that was there. I am sad that the time we have is fleeting, but I am so grateful.