I close my eyes, but not simultaneously as if the right side of my body has gotten the signal just a millisecond later. I like it when that happens, it makes me look a little bit tired, a little bit done with everything. The people around seem to be laughing and I can hear myself talking to them, but I cannot understand a word I am saying. Sometimes parties are the worst place to be, especially when you are sober. That is never a cool thing to admit, is it? Our society has integrated alcohol so deeply into our rules that apparently we need to intoxicate ourselves in order to have fun at party. I hear some people speaking to me, but their speech has become filled with beer and it is very uncomfortable to listen to. I have sworn to myself that I am not getting that drunk again, for at least a month, not after… I think it is time for me to leave this party, there are no inspiring people to meet her, no cute boys I see here, just people whose breaths will become worse and worse as the night turns into morning. I sneak out of the backdoor without saying a word to anyone and get into my car. It feels as if I am not allowed to exist, as if the world just does not seem to have space for me, so it lets me live, but does not let me experience anything. I need to stop believing in things like that, life is what I make of it and I making very little of it. I used to be so hungry for everything, but today my eyes can’t even close at the same time. Blinking seems too much effort and I like it! I am not getting drunk today, I am most certainly not getting drunk alone. Life feels flat, there is no reason to drink alone. I often wish I would get my heart broken, well I wish there would be someone there to break my heart, but if that would happen I would at least be living. I would know that I would be alive, because I would be experiencing things. I should go more out of my comfort zone I guess, but I don’t really know how. Talk to people, right? Parties seem to make me feel as if I am on a meat market and again I promised that I wouldn’t be drunk anymore. I guess it is about confidence, right? It is about just going up to someone and making the conversation interesting, but… I think I am just lazy, that has always been the answer. I seem to not care enough, how can I care so little? I close the door behind me as I enter the house I was born in. My parents did not change a thing, my room still looks the same and I can almost hear my sixteen year old self screaming at me for not ‘following my dream’. I have recently been reading about realism, I think my sixteen year old self would have enjoyed that. No, actually she would have thought it would be bullshit, but then again my sixteen year old self had no real clue what money entails and what taxes are and how expensive everything is. I don’t mean to be cynical, I really enjoy my life overall, but it all feels a little beige. My phone lights up and I see that Belle is calling, I answer.

“What is up, love?”

“Nothing much”, I smile, I love her.

We talk for a little while and she instantly puts me in a good mood. I let myself fall onto the bed and fall asleep quickly.

The sun wakes me up and I hate myself for not changing in more comfortable clothes yesterday night. Did I drink? No I did not? Why do I feel like I drank something? I throw a dress on and walk downstairs, open the door and check if the newspaper has been delivered. I look over to the neighbours when all of a sudden I see there: Ethan. My childhood best friend. We look at each other. What are the odds that we are both visiting our hometown at the same time. We smile at each other, the last time I saw him was ten years ago, long before puberty. I cannot believe he is standing here, what is he doing here? Is he my parents neighbour? I walk up to him, he smiles and I follow his example.