I graduated college last spring. It was a blur. One day I was cramming for finals, the next I was shaking hands on a stage. Everyone was so proud. My parents were ecstatic. I moved back home, like we planned. My mom has always been home with us kids. She needs help with my little brother, he has special needs. It felt like the right thing to do. But it’s not what I thought it would be. I thought I’d be able to keep up with everyone. My high school friends, I mean. We used to be inseparable. Sleepovers, late-night drives, just hanging out doing nothing. Now they’re all in different cities. Some got jobs right away, others are still figuring things out. But they’re *out there*. I try. I really do. I text the group chat sometimes. “Anyone free for a Zoom call this week?” Usually, I get a few thumbs up emojis. Or a “busy Tuesday” or “maybe Thursday night?” Then Thursday rolls around and no one remembers. Or they’re actually busy. It’s always something. And I get it. They have new friends. New routines. New lives. It’s just… I don’t. I wake up, help my mom with breakfast for my brother. Then it’s therapy appointments, school runs, making lunch. Laundry. Groceries. The days just melt into each other. I used to have a life. Friends. Plans. Now it’s just… this. And I feel guilty even thinking it. My mom gave up everything for us. She says it’s a privilege to be able to stay home. Sometimes I scroll through Instagram and see them all together. My old friends. At some bar, or a concert. Or just laughing on a couch. And I remember how it felt. To just *be there*. To be part of something. Now I feel like I’m watching a movie of my old life. And I’m not even an extra. I’m just a viewer. The worst part is when someone does actually call. They ask, “What have you been up to?” And I just… freeze. What do I say? “Oh, I spent the afternoon cleaning the kitchen and then folded four loads of laundry?” It sounds so pathetic. So I usually just say, “Same old, same old.” Or I make something up that sounds a little more exciting than it was. I think they’re starting to give up on me too. The texts get fewer. The calls are rarer. It’s always me reaching out. Always me trying to make plans that never happen. It feels like I’m a ghost in my own life. A memory. And I don’t know how to get back. How to be a person again. A person with my *own* life. I just feel so alone. All the time. And I shouldn’t. I have my family. But it’s not the same. It’s not *my* life. And I don’t know what to do about it. Or if there’s anything I even *can* do. I’m stuck here. And they’re all moving on. Without me.