Why would I want to tell people
about my life,
when they don’t tell me about theirs?
The packed lunch table
full of guys and girls, shared bags of chips,
endless piles of unfinished homework,
claim that what they say about true friends is incredibly accurate:
“Best friends are the people in your life that make you
laugh louder, smile brighter, and live better.”
I decide to only hurl a confused look their way,
with narrowed brows, an exaggerated eye roll, and long sigh,
instead of the other “curious” comments I have
about my definition of “friends.”
Because we’re at lunch, after all, and this is not the time.

I mean come on, Jon.
You’re like our best friend.
What do you think?

And I wish they hadn’t done that - asked me to be honest -
because, you see, when I happen to be a smidge tired and hence a little irritable,
if you ask my opinion, I have no choice but to be honest.
You want to know what I think?
My face starts to burn, my lips press together, and
my eyes narrow as I stare into my “friends.”
i think you guys need to step back and look around.
i can be around you and feel like the luckiest person in the world
and yet, seconds later, feel like nothing more than last night’s trash.
How dare you call me over
to only brag about what you guys did over the weekend?
Yeah, it does sound like fun!
You’re right! i should have come! But you didn’t invite me.

i think you’re very naive in that i don’t see
what’s going on. Yes, i’m not that dumb.
Yes, i’m quite aware of what goes on between you two.
What do i mean? you ask
Oh. i mean, i know you guys talk about me.

You know, just in case you were wondering.

i think you need to watch what you say:
Because when you call me saying
Hey Jon. It’s your best friend here!
Just wanted to tell you about him.
We talked all of last night.
Literally, i guess.
He said “He’s doing better! He thinks he’s gotten the help he needed for
his depression. He says he’s in a better place.”
I just thought you’d like to know that.
And i think about it… depression;
and i find it ironic, how depression must leave him in the dark;
yet here i am, the first i’ve ever heard of it… the depression.

Oh! You mean he didn’t tell you?
No, no he did not.

So, you really want to know what I think? I think my friends are shallow.
I think they’re naive.
I think they’re distracted with themselves.
I think they don’t really know what’s going on.
They’re glossy eyed.
I think they believe I’m fine.
But whenever I’m around them, I think, who am I? who am I? who am I?
all the time until they miraculously include me
in what seems like a conversation spoken in a different tongue.
I think of all the things I want to say to them
but simply don’t because
i. feel. bad.

And let me tell you, I sure don’t
“laugh louder” or “smile brighter” around them,
nevertheless “live better.”

So since we’re all asking questions here:
You’re like my best friend,
What do you think?