Before you disappear

Chapter 2

"Whatever reason you have for dishing my vulnerability, please refrain from it. You're being a complete moron and no one asked you anything. My mom always said, if you can't be nice, don't say anything at all."

I looked at the words I'd written down in anger. The reaction of some anonymous person on the internet to my Instagram post had really riled me up. Here I was, posting something very vulnerable in the hopes of getting some kind of connection to people, and this a* hole thought it be fun to tell me to 'man up' and 'not be a baby'.

Was I being a baby?

I can't post this. I should listen to my mom's words and not just spew them out whenever someone else doesn't take that same approach.

I heaved a sigh and pressed my finger on the delete button until the message I'd written was gone. Being vulnerable meant also being loving and kind, even when others were out to hurt me. I didn't need to interact with the bullies. I could just ignore them and if they became too much, block them from my social media.

I turned my computer off and made myself a cup of hot chocolate. It was my go to drink whenever I felt my anxiety rising. Being single at 28 wasn't easy, especially since everyone around me seemed to have gotten to that next level; boyfriend and some even had married, or started a family of their own.

I glanced at my phone, feeling sorry for myself again. The voice of depression spoke in the back of my mind. No one contacts me. I don't have many friends, but the ones I do have rarely contact me. I pushed the voice back. There was no need to listen to that voice. It made everything seem so much darker than reality actually was. Besides, friendship were always a two way street. And yes, lately, it had been quiet.

But it's because I have been quiet, too.

With me changing jobs, my free time had been limited. I'd gone from sleep, to eat, to work, to eat and to sleep again. And there were days that I even forgot to eat, or just had an apple on the go. But at least now I was doing the work I really wanted to do. Making a difference in people's lives. Granted, I was just a very small fraction of it, but still, I contributed, so that was something.

Plus, the projects I worked on were all projects that I loved. And the best thing was that if I needed free time, my projects manager always said that that was okay. I didn't need to explain. I could decide my own hours.

Just as my water cooker was finished boiling the water I needed for the hot chocolate, my phone rang. Instantly, a smile appeared on my face as I listened to the ring tone. The song had been stuck in my head ever since I first heard it. Without missing one note, I started singing alone.

"Did you see my bag? (Where?) Did you see my bag? (Where?)

It's hella trophies and it's hella thick (Hella thick, hella thick)

What you think 'bout that? (Well) What you think 'bout that? (Well)

I bet it got my haters hella sick (Hella sick)"

I suddenly remembered someone was actually on the other end of the phone, so I picked it up, just in time to see it was actually an unknown number.

"Well, we don't answer those," I murmured,pushing my glasses further up the bridge of my nose.

As the phone went to voicemail, the song ended abruptly. "Nope," I said as I opened up my playlist and searched for the same song again. "This time, I'll listen to the whole song, thank you very much. Mic Drop – let's goooo!!"

The beat was so deliciously catchy, it had me dancing around my house. The anger I'd felt just moments before, melted away like snow for the sun. I laughed at my silly moves, secretly envious that I couldn't do the dance movies like the band whose song was playing.