The Best Party Ever

"I'm so excited," I said out loud, pushing the last thumb tack into place. Dozens of curled, multi-color streamers danced against the ceiling, the breeze from the window moving them to and fro.

My fiancé was upstairs, prepping his world-famous buffalo chicken sliders. My sibings remained in the basement with me, my sister blowing up balloons and my brother hanging string lights between the nails above the insulation.

The excitement was palpable—it would be the party of the century. More than 50 people, tons of games, drinks and snacks galore.

I was so eager for the party to start, I could hardly remember what it was for. My birthday? No, that was still months away. Halloween? No, we hadn't decorated for that. Christmas? Yeah right, there was no snow outside.

Whatever the occasion, we were almost ready. The balloons lazily bounced around the room, the punch bowl glistened as it awaited its promised contents, the beer pong table stood proud and tall in the corner and the stack of party hats waited patiently by the snack table for guests to arrive.

Everything was falling into place.

In the blink of an eye, it was time. As if someone had flipped a switch, the Sun began to set, the string lights blinked to life and the hour ticked 5 p.m.

I braced myself for a lengthy wait. It was the usual ritual: If I told everyone 5 p.m., many wouldn't show till at least 6 or 6:30 p.m. I didn't mind all that much. It gave me time to pick at the chips and dip before anyone else could get to them. It gave me a few extra minutes to put on the finishing touches. I could sample the punch to make sure it was just right, order the pizza and wings ahead of time, ensure the piñata was secured and evenly distribute candy in every serving bowl.

I still couldn't remember the exact reason for this gathering. Oh well.

As I gazed around the room, I marveled at our handiwork. It had taken several hours to perfect the look of the space, and as I looked around, the room looked even better than I had imagined or hoped. I have to remember to thank everyone again for their help.

Before I could finish my thought, an avalanche of voices and laughter barreled down the basement steps. The thunder of footsteps startled me, and I spun around to see everyone I had ever met in my entire life pour into the room.

My cousins, my aunts and uncles, my coworkers, my closest friends. People I knew from high school and college alike greeted me with hugs and smiles, the years spent apart making them less recognizable, but I still knew exactly who they were—each and every person. Past partners, grandparents, teachers and professors floated down the stairs in droves.

And with each passing person, the basement seemed to expand to accomodate the growing crowd.

It was something out of a dream. There I stood, transfixed, surrounding by people from every moment of my life. There were some I had known for years, others I had only met once or twice—but every face, somehow, was familiar.

As I flitted from group to group, taking in the welcome chaos, a sinking feeling began to twist and tug at my stomach.

Everything's fine, I told myself, unwilling to acknowledge the discomfort. I have never been happier in my life, right?

But the more I looked around, the stranger I felt. In fact, the farther I ventured into the crowd of bodies, the less I recognized the faces around me. My stomach gurgled with unease and my heart leapt into my throat.

I don't know these people.

It was the moment the realization hit, the party was over. I was in a trance, stranger after stranger pulling me into a goodbye hug as they drifted past me like a flock of birds. My gaping mouth and wide eyes watched every care-free partygoer scramble up the stairs as fast they had descended them, every person calling to me over their shoulders, goodie bag in hand.

"Thank you for inviting us!"

"Thanks for having us, it was a blast!"

"We should do this more often!"

"We'll see you again soon!"

And before I knew it, there I stood. Alone at the foot of the basement stairs surrounded by dust, concrete and dark.

Forever waiting for my perfect party to start.