Cliques, cliques, cliques. You’d think my friends and I were bound by marriage, we never left each other’s sides. The metal ring that kept us bound was the table we shared, a round constant in our lives. The day we chose our seats was the day we took our vows, the class as our witness, and the seating chart a certificate to officiate it in every class.

We stepped into this union unknowingly, naturally at first. But as the days turned into months turned into years, we seemed to grow out of each other. Familiarity turned to distance. We were each other’s obligations, not friends, we sat together at tables out of practicality more than anything else. Our proximity a mere break from the taxing weight of being alone. We paid the price of a loveless friendship, thinking that if we started this together, we had to end it together as well. No one wanted to be the first to leave. Who knew if anyone was out there to take you in?

When do you realize that the ocean has worn you away into sand? What set off the trigger to the warning shot I heard? What made me realize I was unhappy?

Maybe it was the our conversations, the way each of us were pretending to care, slipping into the costumes of our old selves that no longer fit us anymore. Distortion. We all knew this was not the skin we belonged in.

Did I divorce myself from them, or them from me? I ask myself if it matters, as I walked along the perimeter of the campus. I started spending the breaks between classes with myself, rather than my friends.

Scared. I was scared. We’re the looking at me? Staring? My ‘friends’, my classmates, the witnesses, did they know something had happened between us? Was that judgement in their eyes? Or was it pity? Why pity? I felt better, like this. I felt more alone with my friends than I did on my own. I stopped being scared. Who cares if they stared? I stared back.

Alone, alone, alone. There is freedom in being alone. Room to grow! Room to see, see dreams, see me. I can see me. Bound by no suffocating bonds, no toxic roots of friendship. I shed my old skin skin. Transcended the table. Yes,  I lost myself amongst the masses.

It was in empty walks and silent talks that I found myself.