Losing friends doesn’t really affect me like it used to. Over the past few years, I’ve purposely disposed of people once they became either too attached or difficult to be around. The friendly and sociable part of me has evaporated, and my design has changed from being a genuine person to a conniving one. However, I’m not ready to let go of Ryan just yet. In a world filled with disloyal, treacherous and unreliable human beings, he’s clearly a rare gem.
After questioning whether or not I should just show up at Laocoon Club and try and have a conversation with him, I eventually pushed myself to do it and left my apartment in a whim. It was a weeknight and the place was moderately filled with people. I walked inside, scooped the area and accidentally made eye contact with Tye. His eyes fixated on me once I did, but I immediately turned and started walking in the opposite direction. Since I’ve been there many times before, I knew how to navigate the space, taking the quickest shortcut backstage where I assumed Ryan would be. As I made my way there, I could sense him following me. He eventually yelled my name, and for a second, I thought about ignoring him, but I didn’t want to come off as weird, so I turned and greeted him. I told him I was there to see Ryan, and he said he wasn’t there which was obviously a lie since I saw a sign on my way in that said he had a show. When I told him that he became extremely high strung and wouldn’t let me walk any further. When I tried, he pushed me, but I resisted and kept on trying. He eventually startled me by grabbing me from my shirt and dragging me backwards until I hit a wall, his face thin with anger; but I still wasn’t ready to give up. I asked him to let go, but to no avail. I knew fighting back would only make things worse, so I didn’t move a muscle. When I looked around and saw half the people watching us, I became befuddled and anxiety started to percolate. Ryan popped up in the crowd as I willed myself no to panic which relieved some of it, but he just stood there, arms crossed, and watched just like everyone before regrettably walking away to the back room. Seeing him walk away instead of intervening was like a dropkick to the heart.
Two bouncers soon showed up and escorted me outside. I felt humiliated to the core as I walked back home. As I got further and further away from the club, my thoughts took a twisted turn as I started plotting a way to avenge myself. I couldn’t accept the lowered feelings of esteem and efficacy caused by the altercation. I want to create an impact, and I will. Part of the process of dealing with everything that’s been done to me is raging everything out, and I’m finally doing it. I feel like I’m planning on doing something out of character, but that’s not entirely the case here: I was wronged, and over the past couple of months I’ve done nothing but bottle up my emotions and hide my feelings. It was only a matter of time before the overflowing happened and the acting up began. And now it has.