She was alone at the end of bar and yet, she was not alone. She was with her boyfriend. And two of his friends. And one friend’s girlfriend. But she was still alone. They sat together in a line, her boyfriend chatting amiably with one friend while the other two spoke at the other end. She tried to listen, tried to engage, but when she asked a question she was told, “It would take too long to explain.”
After a few minutes she whispered to her boyfriend and suggested they move to a table. They moved. The atmosphere became a little warmer. Now she could see and hear everyone, but they laughed and spoke of things she did not know, things she did not understand. She became cold again and drank her beer quietly, listening. And watching.
Her boyfriend’s friend and his girlfriend smiled at one another. Made eyes. Laughed. Held hands. Kissed. Her own boyfriend paid no attention. She felt even more alone.
What’s the point? she thought, realizing she could never be part of their world no matter how hard she tried. But she continued to long for it. This was her boyfriend’s world, part of his life. Was she not part of his life, too? Why could all parts not be whole? “Life partners” is what he said they were. But only some parts.
They laughed again.
She sighed, drank her beer, and continued to listen.