True confessions from the only sober person in a room full of drunk 20-something year old girls
Whenever you mix a group of pseudo-close knit girls and an excessive amount of alcohol, at least one will do something ridiculous like shave part of her head and yet another will break down into tears and begin confessing uncomfortably intimate details of her broken childhood. Both of these things happened two nights ago and they’re both reminders of why I don’t drink anymore.
But out of this cryfest came an interesting revelation, and I say the following with as much incredulity and humility as possible because it is truly absurd. Apparently, I am the girl that other girls think has it all. As one of the girls in my apartment, who had been dumped earlier that day, was sobbing about the tragedies of her childhood and never feeling physically attractive, she singled me out as having the “perfect life” to go along with my “perfect looks.” My jaw dropped.
Another girl said she wished guys flocked after her like they probably did after me. Flocked? I thought. More like run screaming in the other direction. I felt like as the eldest of the group it was my responsibility to instill some reality in these girls’ heads.
So I guiltily admitted that I am certifiably crazy. That I generally think everyone hates me or is mad at me and that when it comes to boys, I can only be described as a hot mess. I admitted I had spent the past two nights (all the way from India, mind you) obsessively calling my ex into the wee hours of the morning. That when I finally got through, he admitted he had “physically moved on” aka he had finally banged some other girl three weeks ago and that the conversation could pretty much be summed up with him essentially saying, “Bitch get lost.”
I’m not sure if my pep talk put them at ease or if they even really believed me, but it was the least I could do to try to “keep it real” for these girls. They’ve become like my little sisters and they ought to know the truth: that every girl has a little bit of insanity in her, especially when it comes to love. That the more perfect a girl looks, the harder she’s working to conceal just how nuts she is. And that for every “pretty” girl out there, there is some guy who she is pining after who still doesn’t want her. And a broken heart hurts, pretty or not.
