I can't stop thinking about it, and it's been like a week. The bachelorette party, right, and we're all a little tipsy, laughing loud at everything cause the cocktails are flowing and the music's blasting. Maya, the bride, she's on fire, looking incredible, and someone – I don't even remember who, one of her college friends, probably – makes some dumb joke about my dress, like "Oh, Anon, you're really going for that... *matronly* vibe, huh?" And it wasn't even about the dress, not really, everyone knew what they were getting at. My weight, obviously. I mean, I've put on a few since COVID, who hasn't, the WFH life and all those Seamless orders, it adds up. Plus, let's be real, turning 38 is different than 28, the metabolism just dips like a bad stock market, you know? And Maya, my *best friend* Maya, she just *cackles*. Not a polite little chuckle, but full-on, head thrown back, drink sloshing, "OH MY GOD, YES!" laugh. And everyone else giggles along, looking at me, and I just... I felt this thing in my chest, this deep, simmering heat, like a pot boiling over but only on the inside, totally contained. But what am I gonna do? Call her out? Ruin her night? Her big weekend? So I just laughed too. A little too loud, a little too forced, "Haha, yeah, totally! Comfort first, am I right?" Waving my hand like it was no big deal. Like I was in on the joke. Como si no me importara. But it did. It really, really did. Now I’m just... staring at my ceiling at 2 AM, scrolling through my phone, seeing her perfect little engagement photos and all the bridal shower pics where I'm smiling like a goddamn fool next to her, and I just feel this emptiness. Not even anger, really. More like... a deadness. Like a part of me just went flatlining right there in the club. And I'm still gonna be her bridesmaid, still gonna stand up there in that god-awful fuschia number she picked out, still gonna smile through the whole thing. It’s just what you do. After all these years, all the shit we’ve been through, the breakups, the moves, the *lives* we’ve lived side-by-side... is this what it comes down to? A snide joke and a fake laugh. What the hell am I even doing. Is this what friendship is now. Because it feels like a transaction. A very expensive, emotionally draining transaction. And I can’t stop thinking about that laugh. That damn laugh.