On being invisible.

When I was 13, I attended a church dinner with my parents. I was my usual chatty self when my parents told me to go make some new friends with the kids there as well. I remember being full of confidence going like "YEAH SURE. I have no problem making friends" so I went up to a bunch of kids my age and said "Hey, whats your name?" and this girl just looked at me and said "Priscilla" and continued eating her food. 

I think about this time a lot. Yknow, like being able to just go up to someone and say "hey, what're you talking about?" and then smoothly join in the conversation without that underlying fear at the back of your mind that somewhere, mid conversation, they are going to give each other that glance and omit you out of it. You know what I'm talking about. 

I guess thats what happens in life, sometimes for whatever reason, you just won't fit in. I've learnt that a couple of times. I've had friends ditch me for no reason, or even if there was a reason, they didnt care enough to tell me. I've sat at tables only to be embarrassed by being asked "who said you could sit?". One day I'm going to school with friends and the next day I'm completely ignored by everyone like some kind of disease. 

Because of these collected experiences, I've grown so accustomed to being by myself, to having lots of alone time. Now at 26, I've become quieter and quieter as the world grew louder and louder. Today, in a room filled with people talking, laughing, superficially complimenting each other,  there is me, sitting in the corner of the big room observing and listening to everyone whilst being completely invisible. 

I find myself slipping into a kind of place where I am just...disconnected from everything. Like, everyone around me forms a kind of web, all linked up and connected to each other whilst I keep fading into the background until I'm gone. I find that so strangely powerful because you can see them, but they can't see you.