I just… I can't believe I did it. I’m still awake, it’s 2 AM, and I keep replaying it in my head. Like, what was I thinking? No, that’s not right, I wasn’t thinking at all. It was just this… impulse. A really, really dumb impulse that I can’t undo now, and it’s just sitting there, out in the open, for anyone to see. And it just makes me feel so small, so pathetic, and I just… I need to get it out because it’s eating at me. It started with seeing the pictures, of course. Everybody was there. EVERYBODY. And it looked like such a blast, too. The fairy lights, that live band they had playing, those little mini quiches I saw on the catering table – everything. And I just scrolled and scrolled, clicking through all the stories, watching the videos of people dancing, laughing. And I saw Maria, she was wearing that emerald green dress she bought last month, the one she swore she was only saving for something REALLY special. And there she was, clinking champagne glasses with… with everyone else. With all the people I thought were my friends. And then I saw Michael, his laugh booming even through the video, spilling some drink on his shirt. And Lena, she had that ridiculous feathered boa on, doing some silly dance move that everyone was copying. And they were all so happy, just… genuinely having a good time. And I wasn’t there. I was home, sitting on my couch, watching reruns, pretending I didn’t care. Pretending I was just too busy, too tired, that I had other things to do. But I didn't. I had nothing. It just got to me, you know? That hollow feeling in your gut that just spreads through your chest, up into your throat. Like I was on the outside looking in, always on the outside. And I kept telling myself, "It's fine, it's just a party. You don't need to be everywhere." But it wasn't fine. It wasn't fine at all. Because it wasn't just *a* party. It was *the* party. The one everyone was talking about, planning for weeks, the one I heard snippets of conversations about in the break room, like people were just forgetting I was even there. And I clicked the little heart. Just one. For Maria’s picture, the one where she looked absolutely radiant, like she hadn’t a care in the world. And then another. And another. All of them. Every single photo, every single video, every single group shot where I wasn’t. And it wasn’t just a quick tap, either. I actually went through, clicked on each one, and just lingered for a second before hitting the like button. Like I was curating my jealousy, or something. Like I was trying to prove… what? That I saw it? That I was engaged? That I was still part of their world even though they clearly didn't invite me into it? I didn’t even realize what I was doing until I’d gone through the entire album. My thumb just kept moving, almost on its own, like I was in a trance. And then I stopped. And I just stared at the screen, at all those little red hearts, glowing under every single image of their perfect night. And a cold sweat just started to break out on my forehead. Oh my god. What did I just do? It's so obvious. So, so obvious. I mean, who goes through and likes every single picture of a party they weren't invited to? Someone who clearly cared, that's who. Someone who was clearly hurt. Someone who was clearly watching. And now it’s just sitting there, for everyone to see. My name, right there, under every single smiling face that wasn’t thinking about me for a second. And I can’t undo it. I tried, but then it just makes it even MORE obvious, like I’m backtracking, like I’m trying to hide something. So I just left them. All those little red hearts, a testament to my pathetic insecurity and my utter failure to act like a normal person. Like a person who doesn't obsess over things like this, who just lets it roll off their back. And now I can’t sleep, thinking about who's seen it, who's going to notice, what they’re all going to say. I bet they're laughing about it right now. I just wanted to be invisible, but now I’m… I don’t even know what I am. Just a… a creepy lurker, I guess. God. It’s just so… it feels so much heavier than it should. Like it means something more than just a few clicks. Like it means everything.