I scan the room
Young couples, just like us
A few of the faces are familiar
I even know some of the names
But I have never conversed with any of them before

I try to make eye contact; no one meets my gaze.

Not one.

They are huddled in their circles, laughing
They know one another well
I am the only one who is nameless
the Armenian foreigner
I stand a little far off
I smile when one of them actually looks my way
I don’t know what they are talking about but I nod as if I am in on the joke too

My eyes are big,
expectant

I sway a little as I stand there,
Waiting

There is a question mark on my face –
Hey, I’d love to meet you?
She turns away

I look like an idiot

That feeling in the pit of my stomach
It’s back
Years and years have passed since those days of self doubt
That empty hollow sense
For an exhausting, never ending minute, I feel like I am in high school again
I’m not a teenager anymore
I must be a teenager again?
Am I not wearing the right clothes?
Those questions from yore begin invading my mind
Haunting me

Wait, stop.

They are looking right through me –

I try to make excuses for them
For their lack of acknowledgement
I am eager, ever hopeful, surely there is a mistake
We must have interrupted a most intense conversation by our presence
I don’t want to even entertain the thought that they are intentionally avoiding me, us

My husband is right beside me, he is more familiar with this crowd
But they are not approaching him either
Are we the strangers here?
This does not affect him like it disturbs me
I am stunned
Am I not an adult anymore?
Is this not a gathering of adults?

What is happening here?

I am new here.
It’s been two months?
I don’t know many people yet.
This New Year’s Eve party was a chance,
A chance to make connections
I am a new bride, excited to begin a new chapter in my life with my best friend
And simultaneously missing the familiar
My city, my home, my family, my friends
I am not known here.
It’s a rebuilding time
I long for community

And     it’s    a    slow   grinding    process

After years and years of building a life elsewhere
Only to begin again
I have come to join him here
The city my husband has lived in for years
And sometimes it’s like swallowing bitter herbs and gagging
Stumbling uphill, stuck in the same spot, over and over
Inhaling, ready to leap from the diving board only to stagger back, fighting to balance
The pool is empty
Knowing you are a grown woman
And feeling like an anxious child

We spend the rest of the evening chattering away with our hospitable host
He is a good man
We laugh, eat, sing and cheer in the New Year
Together
And the rest of the guests stick to themselves
An impenetrable mass

I try to make eye contact; no one meets my gaze.

Not one.

Tags: Armenian, community, foreign, high school, Rejection, strangers