I Don’t Crash Parties

An example of comedy masking pain:

If you don’t look me in the eyes and tell me to be at your party I’m not going to show up. I don’t crash parties, even if my only alternative is stabbing myself repeatedly in the base of my skull with a loaded paintbrush, because my insecurity is this question, am I worth the bother? If I don’t think you want me around all that badly I’m not wasting my time.

If you do decide to invite me don’t be surprised if I don’t seem as excited as you want. Really I’m probably a little confused, I hardly get invited to important events and it’s scary to be wanted sometimes; especially if I don’t trust your motives but that’s another issue.

Make of this what you will. Still, have the time of your life without me. What does it matter if I get depressed? You’ll be distracted enough with those who do crash parties. I’ll just wilt in this corner behind this mask of indifference. I know this corner a little too well but it's comforting.

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