You’d think I would feel guilty

Last night,  my uncle had my entire family to his house. My aunts, uncles, cousins, the whole crowd.

At first, I looked at them and felt bad. Would my death hurt them? How could I do that? In a few months, they would be at my funeral. Everyone was happy, and I would ruin it.

But as the night progressed, I began to feel glad I was leaving. I knew that it would still make them sad, but it really was for the best. I didn’t fit in. Everyone around talked of simple, insignificant things. They were all wrapped up in their work, birthdays, money, sports. None of it mattered. I couldn’t hold a conversation longer than a minute because none of that stuff seemed important enough to talk about. I couldn’t think of anything to say because my mind automatically discarded the unimportant things. I wanted to talk about religion, history, novels, or science. All they were interested in was comparing Channing Tatum’s movies. Really? Don’t get me wrong, I love my family, but I feel as though they wouldn’t mind if I wasn’t there. I don’t contribute anything “important” in their minds.

This issue isn’t really a big deal. It isn’t one of the reasons I’m going to die. It just makes me feel a bit more depressed and more of an outcast. I had hoped going to this party would make me feel better for a few hours, but it’s just going to make leaving easier.

Thanks for reading.