No One Wants To Be Picked Last in Gym Class

Jenny Johnson, the American hero who gave Chris Brown the cyber-slap heard ’round the world last November once tweeted, “I always want to be the friend you text under the table, not the boring a–hole sitting across from you.” And in less than 140 characters, Johnson described the commonality between every, single person on the planet. In addition to world peace and the demise of Honey Boo-Boo, we all want to be that friend. We all simply want to be included.

Being picked last in gym class. Being asked to step back in a “couples only” picture. Finding out you were left out of a girls’ night (again). It all comes with a familiar, particular, biting sting. It’s the emotional equivalent to being punched in the arm …hard. And with the twinkle of wrath in one eye, you’re quick to remedy the pain with passive aggressive thoughts (and tweets), convincing yourself that you don’t care. (When in fact, you’re writing a blogpost to cope.)

Be vocal about the problem? That’s far too logical and emotionally responsible. Honestly, who wants to admit that they feel like the black sheep (no pun intended) of a friendship circle? There’s a pokerface that we masquerade around. It’s embellished with confidence, self-awareness and there is no room for a fragility or pity. The last thing you want to do is admit weakness in a war of the mind. Besides, tracking records prove for this to be a rare occurrence, so maybe the animosity and exclusion will soon blow over. After all, it has before. (What an arrogant attitude; we want people to read our minds, but we hardly ever speak our minds.)

In hopes to quiet any insecurity in your head, you overcompensate with explanations. “I’m sure they knew I was busy (reblogging cupcakes on Tumblr.)” Or“I’m sure they just forgot to invite me.” The BS you’re force-feeding yourself almost tastes good enough to swallow until you realize that the thought of “being forgotten” is worse than being intentionally left out. Who forgets to invite the girl who dances on tables lip-synching The Backstreet Boys?!?

Because we all want to believe that all the inside jokes, shared stories and adventures can be cashed in for a place in someone’s heart. We want that abstract yet coveted spot reserved “Friend” to be our seat. Basic human behavior proves we all just want to be apart of something. Hence the invisible sign reading, “INCLUDE ME!” that we’re all holding, in addition to the said pokerface we disguise ourselves in.

But alas, the night ends with you braving the Cold War, hoping you’re missed and calling up other friends you can enjoy life with. And so, I want to be the friend you text for Mojito Mondays, not the ‘fair weather friend’ you call when it’s convenient.