I have a friend, I should say a former friend, who hosted a party, actually two parties this week. One that I was invited to, and another that I wasn’t. It wasn’t so much of an explicit snub, more of an indirect one, as I was never specifically told that I was invited, but all of our mutual friends that I remain close to had been.
I don’t really know when it started to go wrong, but I definitely remember the day that I realized that I didn’t need her in my life anymore and that the feeling was completely mutual.
I was on my way home from somewhere and I had stopped at the Wendy’s by my place and as I was walking across the parking lot, I came to the realization:
- That she and my friend Britt went to see Sex & The City without me. This seems rather trivial and petty but if you consider that the movie is about the sisterhood bonds between best friends it’s kind of funny in an ironic knife twisting in the gut sort of way.
- The 4 A.M. calls had stopped. Yeah they were irritating, but it was comforting knowing that when she was going through all of her drama I was the only one she could think of that would be both awake at that hour and able to talk her down from the proverbial ledge.
It was her party and she had taken the time to invite me, albeit in a rather off the cuff manner. I seriously wasn’t going to go, but I bought this new Diesel dress on New Year’s Eve that I was dying to wear and my internet was down. Greg (my current love interest that I’m quickly tiring of) suggested a movie night (again? seriously bored of watching movies) but with my home wireless network down I really couldn’t download anything which meant we’d have to leave the house in any case to either rent something or go to the theatre.
It was -30C all day Saturday so the prospect of leaving downtown to go to a University district party was less than appealing and Greg hastily decided that he wasn’t really down for that as we argued over what wine to get at one of the five liquor stores near my apartment. He offered to drive me to the party but I declined – effectively cutting off my nose to spite my face. I later regretted my decision as I stepped over a puddle of urine at the entrance to the train station.
It was too cold to even wear the dress I had wanted to wear since I definitely wasn’t going barelegged in the weather but I had worn totally inappropriate shoes to be walking the 12 blocks from the train station and I had to wait for a bus.
I hate being the first one there, so I was fashionably late, or obnoxiously so, depending on your views on the matter. It was a small party but I was glad to be there and catch up with everyone. I quickly got over my apprehension that it might be awkward.
It ended up being anything but, and it was as if nothing had changed.