Memory’s Hammer

My problems are tiny compared to so many others. I know that. I just wanted to share a moment in my life which still lingers in my mind, popping up like a colourless firework on days when I least suspect it. I don’t really know why it’s still there, rattling in my head, because it’s not the most devastating of blows compared to what other people have struggled with, but my mind likes embiggening the balloon of inadequacy known as me, my life, and my social incapability.

Forgive me for being selfish and boring as write a story about myself (Sidenote: I live in the UK, so when I say “football” I am, of course, referring to soccer).

During high school in the Easter Holiday period, I thought it would be a fun surprise to go out and buy chocolate Easter eggs for my closest friends. I had saved up some money (for once) and I headed to the shop. I bought four Easter eggs and decided I’d visit my friends’ houses; only briefly, saying hello and dropping off their egg because they were probably busy. I had never done this sort of thing before: going directly to their houses without invitation. I covered birthdays and Christmas and I always gave those presents to my friends during school hours. This was the first time I bought chocolate eggs for anyone. It’s also the last time.

The Universe must have controlled me that day while giggling to itself, making me do something out of the ordinary. I thought it best to head to the friend who lived farthest away first. On route, I chose to go through the park – the park where we always played football since early middle school and at least once pretty much every holiday and half term. I could have gone around; I could have chosen the road beside and I wouldn’t have gained or lost time either way. The dog-lover I am, I thought it would be nice to go through the big, square park where people often walk their dogs around the perimeter.

You may have guessed by now, but as soon as I entered the park, I saw my friends playing football. The four friends I had bought the eggs for and a few friends beside. I double checked my phone. There was no invite; there were no texts at all that day. This was the first holiday when no one had invited me to anything.

I can’t recall what my feet did because my head was weaving the worst scenarios possible while my heart told my eyes to create a new River Nile. I can only guess I stopped walking for a moment. Was this the first time they had intentionally left me out? Was this the start of something else? Clues were hard to find in a situation I couldn’t understand, but all my brain cells pointed at me being unworthy to invite. Maybe I was a scream which shattered the perfect silence: unwanted. Or perhaps I was a baby’s vaguest memory: forgotten. I don’t know. I really don’t. And I never will. Obviously, they hadn’t wanted me to come. Silly, stupid, teenage Euan was able to work that much out at least.

I had two rustling bags in my hands, two big egg boxes in each. What was I to do? Go over there and say “hey, I didn’t get invite, so don’t mind me randomly appearing with some eggs”? No one had texted me to let me know we were playing football that day. I’ve never been the most impressionable person around, always being the quiet kid at school, the idiot who doesn’t believe in himself on the best of days - the forgettable face; the star that was never bright enough to be remembered when compared to the expanding supernovas around me. But I really thought my friendship group saw me as something a little more than that. Some of us had talked about the future, sharing a flat with each other, always staying together no matter where we went. Two of these friends I had been with since the very start of school. I thought I had made friends for life with all four of them.

I had no clue what to do at that moment in the park. Would it be best to pretend I never saw them and continue onto their houses? But then their parents would tell them I stopped by and probably tell me that they’re at the park. I wasn’t bright enough to come up with a decent solution. My friends probably didn’t want the stupid Easter eggs anyway! Why the heck had I bought them in the first place?!

For a while, I sat on one of the benches in the park, occasionally glancing at everyone playing football while deciding if it was right to go over there or not. I’ve always seen myself as an outlier in the system of friendship. Back then, I only kind of suspected it, but now I can say it with certainty thanks to this day. I was fine with being the quiet kid in school and college. But the quiet kid still has feelings, as pathetic as that may sound. And these people were my best friends… weren’t they?

I remember when I got home that day and I went to lie on my bed and listen to music. I covered my eyes with my forearm (cliché, huh? But I listened to music like that for many months after until I started getting a dead arm). Like a piano playing music without keys, my life continued in a soundless kind of way, unsure if I still had real friends.

This was probably the first biggest blow to my mental state I had experienced, the first hammer to smack down upon me and say nothing is guaranteed and that nothing would be how I imagined. Whatever had shattered inside me that day remains broken today, but I believe some good came of it, or at least some form of acceptance and understanding.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, I ended up drifting apart from these friends as High School continued. I passed along from one group of friends to the next. Towards the end of my final year of high school, it was just me at the library on my own.

I had the normal friends you could say hi to, but no one I would hang out with outside of school or be myself around. When I went to college, I thought things would change. I had made some new friends – great friends – and we spent time together after classes and outside of college. I don’t know the requirements, but I would have called these people my best friends just like the high school group.

But after college ended, a bunch of them unfriended me on Facebook, unfollowed on Instagram, and I never heard from them again. I don’t know if it was at the same time, but when I noticed nothing in my feed from a lot of them, I saw they weren’t friends/following me anymore. One of these people was my crush – the sweetest and most intelligent girl I had ever met. Now she’s off my social media, along with a few college friends, disappearing like fireflies under the sun’s zenith. Another hammer hit my mind that day and I don’t know what it broke… but I know it hurt.

Thinking about it all now… it doesn’t make me as sad as it once did. I guess I’m numb. Numb to my best friends choosing against inviting me to play football, numb to my college friends actively removing me from social media. Numb to any hope of having any solid, long-lasting sort of strong friendship. I’m not oblivious to the common factor in all this is – the common factor is me. I had thought I was wanted, but I was as forgettable as any stranger. Maybe I’m a poison and I just don’t know it. Maybe I’m just unlikeable (okay, I do sort of know that one).

But I know now what I wish I had known then:

I was never meant to have any best friends. My piece in the jigsaw puzzle of friendship is one too misshapen to ever fit in any proper clique… And that’s okay. More than okay. It opens my path to other directions. I enjoy writing, reading, playing games. I’m content with being alone, committing to hobbies, having basic friendships that don’t go much further, having my family. I’ve learnt to do things that make me happy (as long as it’s not hurting anyone else).

I didn’t want this to be depressing. I’m fine with things now, though regrets pop up every now and then. But what sort of memory doesn’t like to prod us with bony fingers saying “Hey, you remember this moment? Terrible wasn’t it. How about you think about it all day?” I picked this issue in my past because it keeps coming back to the forefront of my mind at random times, on random days. It really shouldn’t matter. People move on, people change, and I shouldn’t dwell on possibilities and other world lines that don’t exist. I appreciate the memories these friends gave me, and my crush for realising I could fall for someone, even if it was just a little spark of love.

I did end up giving my friends the chocolate eggs, though that made things awkward for a moment. I should have just left the eggs on the bench and gone home. At least then I wouldn’t have put any guilt on them. You can’t be friends with everyone; it’s okay they didn’t want me there.

Now, as I sit here typing away while listening to sad music to put me in a weird frame of mind, I want to say thank you to anyone who read and made it this far. It always feels dull talking about myself and my past. It's a shame I'm not a masked vigilante or something. At least then, this story would have been cool.