Life on the Edge

It’s not fun, being on the edge. Not when you don’t want to be there.

End of term shenanigans at University have made me realize just how near to the edge I am. The sadness is that I hadn’t known that this was the case; I thought, for once, I might be a part of things. But no, there are cliques, and as I went from table to table to table, “sorry, no seats”,  at the Chapel Ball, that became increasingly obvious.

The following Sunday morning was even better. For all the work stress I’ve encountered this year, I’ve looked back at the research group at Cardiff, as a place where I have friends, and did belong. Apart from there was a party that weekend, to which former lab group members, apparently including those now living in mainland Europe, were invited. Facebook photo’ albums were the first I knew of it.

I’m stupid to feel like I belong somewhere. It always leads to hurt when I realize how wrong I am. I’m not wanted socially. I need to get that into my thick head. Should have done a while ago. Why doesn’t God want me to belong?

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