Saturday, November 7, 2015

Former Party Girl

I used to like going out. No, cross that - I used to love going out.

I loved parties and large gatherings and people din't scare me. I don't think they scare me now as much as they annoy me. It takes too much effort to fake interest in their small talk anymore and I'm not naturally drawn to the "broken" ones who nurse their drink in the corner of the room anymore. About two years ago I'd walk into a room full of strangers and do a stand-up bit of sorts. Everyone would fall in love with me and I'd thank Mrs. Liquid Courage for my star-like quality.My Instagram would flood with #aboutlastnight photos and strangers from the night would hit me up on Facebook the morning after.

I don't know when I got over the whole thing. I don't know when I realized that it doesn't really do anything more me. But as I type this I can't help but wonder if the realization came to me, or did the parties stop happening.

I've always known a lot of people in varying capacities of intimacy. Some probably got busy, some probably I lost on the way, some probably just didn't do it for me anymore, some probably started exploring ewer interests that didn't excite me and some probably started hating me. Maybe it was the lack of parties that forced me to prefer staying in.

I'm sitting here on a Saturday night with a glass of whisky by my side while my roommates are out for a Diwali party, trying to resume this blog, And I actually don't mind that.

When did we get here?

Old-age, is that you?

One of my closest friends was in town and she asked this girl if she got along with this other guy she wanted to have lunch with, so that all three of them could hang out. The girl said most nonchalantly "It's not about getting along, everyone can get along... but what's the point if I don't have fun?"

That's that, I guess. I stopped having fun.

And what a tragedy that is.

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