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The ugly cry that is shrugged off when beseeching a party friend for a slice of time. When the party friend stops all contact because of all the nerve I moved out of the sacred party bubble. Instant deflation of self esteem and all those things done to garner favor become a shameful secret I wish I could forget like so many black out nights. But now my friends and family matter. I matter. I just wish occassionally they got stupid drunk and sang with me.

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I haven been talking so much about this with my close friends, and how I have sort of placed my party friends in a different "box" and put it on some metaphorical storage shelf. The pandemic has certainly shown me clearly who is there for me in whatever capacity, and who I am comfortable being vulnerable around. As my circle gets smaller it's easier to decipher why, and what I value in different friendships. I think I'm starting to adjust my expectations of people, and learn not to take friendships that don't hold as much meaning as I once thought too personally.

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That's exactly where I'm at. I used to sulk when I didn't hear from certain people, or didn't get the invite to certain outings. Now I know those people were just party friends, and I treat our friendship accordingly.

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