What’s a Party Without a Little Twist in the Script?

Have you ever beaten yourself over a situation you had no control over?
I have, actually this morning I have. And most of last night too.
Flashback to yesterday around 12 a.m.:
“E is crying!” I was told in an excited tone. I honestly just came so I could relax and have a good time with my boyfriend, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen. Why was she crying? Who knows, maybe because of something that happened to her before, maybe because she was just inhibited at the moment. I guess everyone’s body reacts differently when intoxicated. No matter the reason, there was someone crying. On the kitchen floor no less– don’t get me started on how unsanitary the kitchen floor probably is, gross.
I should have done something besides just peering into the kitchen to see what was going on. Honestly, I should have barged right in the the first time I realized she was upset instead of walking back into the living room to watch the game and dance. But I didn’t barge in until it was absolutely hectic, it wasn’t my house after all. So after a half an hour passed and E was still crying, I made a choice. She didn’t know me, and I didn’t know her. She probably thought it was weird when a stranger plopped down on floor next to her and crossed her legs. It was even more awkward when I introduced myself by wiping tears from her face and saying, “You don’t remember my name, but I’m Tati. I want to know what’s going on, are you okay?” Just the sheer contact of my hands near her face was probably a bad move, especially if she went through something traumatic. I didn’t think that far ahead; at that moment, Maternal Instinct kicked in and I just wanted to help.
She responded with a shake of her head and mascara streaked tears, “No, no I’m fine. I remember your name, (trembling giggle) I don’t want to talk. I’ll be fine. I promise.” At that moment I should have just sat there until she was ready to talk; she wanted her best friend who was indisposed at the moment. I should have at least changed the topic with a lighthearted, “Girl, waterproof mascara is a blessing from God. Let’s get you cleaned up, I have some in my bag that you can borrow.” Or maybe I should have kicked everyone out of the kitchen so we could really talk, it was obvious that she was uncomfortable (and so was I to be honest). But at that moment, I felt like I was her only friend at that shin dig. Perhaps I was. I mean, I was the only one who decided to comfort her in a girl to girl way. I was also the only one that wasn’t laughing or hooking up in the back. Maybe I was the girl’s friend at that specific point and time.
But I withdrew from that position the second I got up, grabbed my drink and left with a simple, “If you need me, I’ll be right around the corner. I’ll set them straight if you want me to, just let me know.” And with a wink in her direction, I turned my back and exited the kitchen.
I feel like I could have done more, maybe. What really upset me about that night was the fact that I walked into the living room and when asked what happened I replied with a, “I don’t know. I got my drink, I’m chilling.” That was possibly the most apathetic response I could have given, and I’m killing myself over it. After watching the basketball game for a little bit, my boyfriend walked into the room and placed both his hands on my arms with a what-is-going-on look on his face. I responded with a nonchalant shrug of my shoulders,
“She’s crying in the kitchen and won’t talk to anyone but her friend.”

3 Comments Add yours

  1. Elm says:

    Don’t feel upset about yourself. What COULD you have done? She didn’t want to talk. Seriously, it’s not your fault.

    1. lifewtati says:

      Aww thank you! You’re lovely!

      1. Elm says:

        Thank you so much! 🙂

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