First impressions are everything.

But are they really?

What about last impressions?

What about the impression you made last night when you strolled into the party?

Champagne last resting in your hand.

Shoulders back. Posture straight. Graceful gestures. Delicate smile and all.

The last idea about you is the impression people have on you.

I came to this conclusion during the hour and 30 minute drive home today.

When I arrived at the party–

Déjà Vu.

I recognize this address. I’ve been to this party before.

Familiar faces. Dull personalities. Blank expressions. But some god damn expensive shoes on their feet. I can only imagine what exotic fabric their socks were comprised from. Damn.

I gripped my cheetah print steering wheel.

Tacky.

Eh, kind of like assumptions.

You know, the assumptions of the other guests that smack you right in the face when you least expect them to, resulting in a dazed and confused you using the dance floor to hold you up.

If there’s anything I’ve discovered these last few months is that people are constantly judging you, whether it’s for the outfit you threw together for the dinner party or because that Snapchat you posted during it was a bit too wild for their taste. And then they might address the situation with other attendees out of so-called concern. But let me tell you, they speak criticism. Concern is not criticism. They are not interchangeable. They are not synonyms. So don’t go justifying your criticism by disguising it as concern. Someone who is truly concerned wouldn’t mouth it behind the guest’s back.

If you were truly concerned, then you would place your hand on my shoulder & ask me what the **** is going on.

No need to be polite. We are all adults here. All of our names are on the guest list.

But maybe it’s just a weak spot in humanity. Maybe we aren’t good at confronting situations, so we vent about our impressions to others with the hope that maybe they will point us in the right direction. Maybe the intentions were always good, but got construed and disorganized. And maybe as words go around, they eventually circle back, but this time with little cohesion, full of holes and misinterpretations, pounded by emotions, and spoken in so many different languages, yet still composed with the same let-me-enlighten-you-imbeciles pride that communicating in tongues entails.

Your last impression led to numerous assumptions that have now determined your current state of being.

Congratulations. Thank you for coming!

…and what perfect timing! The second you think you might be reconstructing the trust you had watched a sinkhole swallow a few months back– helpless.

That genuine grin, the rosy-colored cheeks, the excitement as you got ready.. the anticipation seems to always be better than the actual party.

Sometimes we become engrossed with the perfection and luxury of wine, but all it takes is the accidental slip of your glass, and then–

shatter.

& letting the mess ruin your intoxicatingly content smile is silly,

but eventually you sober up.

 

And maybe eternal bliss only lasts the length of the party..

the balloons will deflate in time

the glitter won’t give off the same glow

and the guests will lose their initial energy…

but that impression..not the first, but the last, as you hurry out the door, that will follow you. Whoever entered previously might have been you, but the person that exited is you.

But as I said, maybe the intentions were not bad. Maybe this is not a cue to close yourself off from the world because it feels like the guests are out to get you, seeking the flaws within your very soul, waiting for the single mistake to catch you off-guard and make that final pounce for the kill.

The assumptions have been fed. The impressions have been solidified. And I guess that is what you must sacrifice when attending a celebration. Your name is on the list.

You didn’t have to show up. You could have made an excuse.

More drinks for us then, right?

And these assumptions only encourage the reckless behavior.

I’m only going to throw the confetti higher.

And casually spill my prosecco all over my fancy dress with the tags still on it.

And maybe a little bit on the cute boy across the room…I swear it was an accident!

And the impressions only make me hold my chin higher, spin around dizzy until the light headedness makes me stumble..

Cheers to the concern,

cheers to the criticism,

& cheers to us-

the doomed kiddos.

“Be more responsible”

lol

Now why would I ever want to do such a thing?