I walk behind a group of people. The path too narrow for me to be next to them. My head hung low as I watched my feet move.

Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.

I repeat over and over in my head, mostly to keep my head out of my own thoughts and from crying, as my feet moved under me helping me move along with the group.

Only wishing that I could just turn around and walk away from the group of people I call friends. I doubt they would actually notice that I’ve disappeared.

If I got kidnapped at this exact moment, they wouldn’t noticed. If I was to be stabbed in the heart, they wouldn’t notice. If I collapsed having a heart attack, they wouldn’t notice.

You get the point. I am the friend everyone pushes to the side. The one who goes on social media and sees the group hanging out without you. The one who is forced to walk behind everyone as we get onto a narrow path, just like this one. The one everyone ignores and doesn’t notice is gone by the point your out of view.

I am the “extra” friend.