What happens if you put me first for once

Not everyone is good at friendship —

some only know how to show up

when the crowd is kind

and the light feels easy.

They forget the quiet ones

who carry too much in silence,

who flinch at raised voices

but still show up, every time.

I was the soft one,

the one who stayed behind

when your plans forgot me,

when your laughs circled rooms

I was never fully invited into.

You said it was a misunderstanding,

but misunderstandings don’t

leave people standing alone

at the edge of a celebration

they were barely meant to be part of.

You invited me pretending like I matter to you.

And maybe I don’t,

not to everyone.

Not to friends who say sorry

like it’s a shield,

then whisper about whether

I should be invited at all.

I didn’t cry at the party

because I’ve done that before,

and this time,

I swallowed the ache

like sugar melting on my tongue.

Because people like me,

we don’t break things when we hurt.

We break inside.

We walk home quietly.

We clean up the mess

others leave behind.

Maybe I wasn’t your first choice.

Maybe I was a courtesy.

But I know what I am —

I am the one who stayed soft

in a world that tried to harden me.

And that is worth more

than being picked

by those who never saw the weight

I carried just to smile.

For the people that always puts one of their friend behind, left out and treat them like second option.