I suppose I’ve been aware of this for quite some time, but I think that it’s in moments like these that I’m most acutely aware. I’m unhappy. I’m unhappy that I can’t seem to enjoy other people’s happiness anymore. I’m unhappy that I am the last thing on people’s minds because I somehow exude okayness – that or that they just don’t give a shit about me. Let me roll this a few steps back. I flew to Brazil, where I currently am, for one of my best friend’s weddings. It was an $1100 dollar ticket, but, despite being one of the most frugal people I know, it was a “large” transaction that I didn’t have to give a second thought. Money doesn’t matter to me – you can always get more. I will say that I’m extremely grateful for the generosity of both his parents as well as hers for housing, feeding, and entertaining me while I’ve been here. The price tag would have been much much higher without them, but let me get back on topic. I’ve just been vomiting words and details so far. When did this great trip go wrong? It wasn’t on the first day as we traveled into the mountains immediately after I landed in Vitoria. It wasn’t on the second day when the wedding and reception took place. I’d like to think that it started towards the middle of the third day. It was on the third day, after the newlyweds had departed for their honeymoon, that I found myself laying in bed wrestling with a headache and chills and general physical displeasure. In and of itself, being sick doesn’t matter much. However, given that I’m some thousands of miles from home in a tropical paradise, it was rather unfortunate. However, I decided to sleep things off and for the most part I made it back to a functional state. In fact, I made the decision that I was going to declare myself functional, regardless of my true state, because I wanted to go out to bars with the father of the bride. Before that I had a conversation with the maid about whether I’m in love with anyone. So, I gave her a brief summary of my relationship history and explained what I’m looking for. And she thought my way of thinking about things was very intelligent and that she’d be praying for me to find someone. I suppose, validation feels good. But it also shifted my mind to that fact – the reality that I don’t have a someone special. Anyway, I’m not a drinker by any means, but I’d consider it a missed opportunity not to go out and experience the Brazilian nightlife. So, we went. It was pretty awesome – rock is pretty popular. And of course there were plenty of beautiful people. I saw, probably, the most beautiful woman that I’ve ever seen in my life. And maybe that was where it truly started? The moment when the urge to speak to her came and the words never reached my lips. I could claim that it was that I don’t speak Portuguese all that well, and that would be true. But what I experienced was a bit more than that. It was the classic lack of confidence that arises when approaching women – I think it’s something that plenty of people wrestle with. And I wrestled with it 3 more times after that first girl. I did finally make an attempt the third time, and I was rejected – because I didn’t speak Portuguese. Now of course, the logical conclusion is that I should learn Portuguese (and don’t worry I will) but the conclusion that my mind reached after another several hours of deliberation? I am not of interest. If I were a tall blond businessman, would I be of more interest? Maybe. If I were more confident, would I be of interest? Maybe. If I were less hyper-aware of myself and my flaws and my surroundings and the opinions of the people around me and bla bla bla? Maybe. The conclusion that I reached was one filled with my own insufficiencies. That isn’t what prompted me to write this though. What prompted my adventure into my feelings was sitting in the back seat with the newlyweds in the driver and passenger seats - standard third wheel positioning. It reminded me of exactly how many times I’ve experienced life in that position. I don’t think I’ve ever hated it, but I don’t think I’ve ever been immune to it either. I think there’s something to be said for seeing other people enjoy each other’s company while you feel alone. The next stage was traveling to the bride’s cousin’s home where she, her husband, kids, and dog were enjoying themselves. Instead of being able to appreciate the kids and the environment and the food, all that I could think about was how I couldn’t have what they had. By the time we decided to head home, I was no longer interested in talking. I desperately hoped that either of them would ask how I was doing, but I know that I wouldn’t have given them this answer. I would likely have said “I’m okay” knowing that neither of them would dig deeper. See, I wasn’t willing to risk diverting their attention away from their happiness with each other - especially not for the sake of expressing my own feelings. But what I will say is that I was no longer happy for them. Not in that moment. In that moment I wanted to be as far from them as possible. I wanted something that I couldn’t have, and they were simply a reminder of that. So, now, here I sit, on a mattress in a living room writing this journal entry, that I’ll likely never share with anyone, being kept mentally afloat by a cat who decided to snuggle up next to me. Maybe the answer to all of these questions and can’ts is simply that I need a cat.