Even if I make it through the event without obvious disaster, I come home and unravel
But deep down, there’s that little pulse of longing. I wish I could’ve come. I wish it felt easier.
And that’s why I’m asking you: Please, keep inviting me.
Keep including me, even when I don’t show up. Keep sending the text, even if I leave it unread. Keep the door open. It tells me I still matter. That I still belong. That even if I can’t bring myself to join you, I haven’t been forgotten.
Maybe one day, I will come. I’ll slip in, quiet and unsure, and hope you don’t notice the nerves in my smile. Maybe I’ll stay the whole time. Maybe I’ll laugh without thinking. Maybe I’ll feel like I belong — not because I performed well enough to earn it, but because you made space for me to be exactly who I am.
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