Eh, how I'm feeling.

What has my life become?  It's become a bunch of late-arrivers at the party.  I arrive first and look around, confused, because it seems awfully empty even with all of these people here.  When my friends arrive, it becomes complete, because each of them has at least one characteristic bigger than the room.  Bigger than the house.

What has my life become?  One in which when I first walk in and see girls with sundresses and wine glasses,  I panic.  Once a beer bottle graces my hand with it's cool sweat bubbles, I feel a little bit better.  Until my friends arrive.

My life has become the outsiders, really. The ones that traveled from Philadelphia to come to this party and sit on the back porch with me, as the scent of cigars wafts into my pale face.  One of the girls says, "we are the reject friends."

But my life has this way of mingling with lives that aren't quite like my own, so I wander sometimes.  I say, "How are you?" without caring and "How is that wine?" without caring.  I tell them I like that dress even though I just like the figure that's underneath it.  They smile at me. I drunkenly stumble.  At some point I realize that I'm really not welcome to mingle, but my judgment is off.

So I walk myself back to my original seat with the originals and talk about things like jobs and restaurants, feeling happy and secure.  Feeling like someone loves me.  Feeling like the world is fair when each one hugs me as they leave.  I'm never the first to go, I'm always one of the last.

And when I leave, I don't turn around because I know I'm not missing anything.  All that's left is the air in the house and just three or so dying flickering lights that I left behind.

It's amazing how we glow so brightly when we're all together.