Here’s what’s not happening

I got there early and there was barely a couple people I know, so I said hello and took a seat in a corner. Now I’m watching people arrive, talk to other people, order drinks and laugh. Sometimes I get to recognize a face, sometimes the face looks back. Sometimes that face knows mine and walks towards me just to say hi, but never to stay.

I’m wondering why do I keep fooling myself into believing that I actually have a social life that compels me to come to these kind of events, thinking that probably someone is expecting to see me; if I always leave disappointed because that’s never the case. I’m still sitting alone in that corner, playing stupid games with my cellphone and hoping that nobody notices how my eyes are starting to turn red and shiny.

And of course no one does, they’re all too busy having fun.

I’m trying not to care. I’m writing dumb lines on the back sheets of my notebook, though I cannot see when the words overlap each other beacuse of the dimness. I’m feeling the looks of strangers on me, probably wondering why I’m all alone in that corner, without a drink in my hand, waving a pen so angrily.

Someone is sitting next to me, to make a little company. He does not say a word. He’s just there, wishing he was with someone else while I have my eyes fixed on the floor, counting tiles or  beer cans. Finally he leaves.

Once again, I’m alone in this corner wishing I could go back in time and stay home for the night. I’m thinking that it’s better to be alone locked in a room instead of being alone while surrounded by people. I’m being sure that it doesn’t hurt that way. I’m wrong, but I don’t know that. I’m swearing that I’ll never make this mistake again.

I’m leaving.