They Sat Me at Table Nine
my sister put me at table nine. i counted the tables between me and the family one. there were eight.
my sister got married today and they sat me at table nine. nine. with her fiancé's coworkers and a cousin i've met twice. i counted the tables between me and the family one. there were eight.
i'm not in the wedding-party photos because i wasn't asked, and i told everyone i was relieved, i hate being up front, which is true and also the meanest kind of lie because i wanted to be asked so i could say no. the group chat is going off right now, everyone posting the same six pictures, our mom typing then stopping then typing. i drafted three replies. one nice, one honest, one i'd lose the family over. i deleted all of them and put a little heart on the photo you can't even see me in.
here's the thing i keep turning over. i came home ready to be so angry. i had it loaded. and now the dress is over the chair and the shoes are by the door and i'm just sitting here, not angry, not anything. table nine wasn't the insult. table nine was just where you put the person you'd already stopped thinking about.
Did this one stay with you?
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