deconstruction

by rantywoman

Lovely, moving piece (and I can recall attending similar game nights myself):

http://talesfromclarkstreet.blogspot.com/2012/12/deconstructing-portland.html

Meanwhile, all around me, people were finding their dreams. Kira got a great job and found a great man (who is now her husband). My other friends were already coupled or found their future spouses as well. I was the solo friend — the one who often left the living room game night parties because she felt so lonely surrounded by couples. In my twisted, dark mind, I decided our mutual friends didn’t really like me.

I spent a lot of time being a Bar Fly on my own. I wrote in endless journals –Why has my dream become a nightmare? What am I doing wrong? Why is this happening to me?¬†And then, like any good, young human, I became RIDICULOUSLY jealous of Kira. I decided she had somehow stolen my dream — like the Universe only had so many dreams, and somehow mine got handed to her by mistake. She was insanely happy in Portland. She had great friends, a great place to live, a great man, and a great job. I. Was. So. F*cking. Jealous. It showed.

 

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