Excuses

Your friends lifted up their glasses, but how they never got to celebrate. Their eyes were on the lookout for reasons to applaud, but how they got to watch me shamelessly slipping into the vague darkness of the evening. How they got to whisper queries, and confusion, and displeasure into each other's ear. How they got to roll their eyes and mutter "maniac" under their breaths before my shadow could even disappear from their view.

Your head was bent low and your fists sat, curled up in an inhumane grief, upon your folded knees. So I never knew if you called me one too.

As a matter of fact Teddy, I wish you called me one.