I don’t go to parties anymore

By Thomas Feng

July 7^th, 2019

Dear July,

I was eating a bowl of chilli sin carne at Imogen's house when she asked me when was the last time I went to a party.

And I honestly couldn’t remember.

Knowing me, I was probably trying to morph myself into a pot plant in the corner, or I was dancing outrageously with no care for the world.

I turned towards Michelle and wondered whether she had any idea.

I checked Facebook to see the “past events” I had clicked "attending".

Do bougie political network celebrations count? Drop-in picnics for an afternoon drinking beer?

No, no Thomas. You haven’t been to a party in a long time.

On my way to dinner that night, I walked out of Preston station and remembered the last time I was there two years ago. Life was difficult, and I felt immensely vulnerable all the time, and I was catching the last train home from a party where I found myself in a tent with random strangers ripping a bong.

I worried that the Metro Train cops would strike up a conversation and discover the stench of smoke and marijuana on my mohair jumper.

How naive I was.

But alas it is true July, I haven’t been to a party with loud, pumping music for fun in a long time.

I ran into an old high school acquaintance who lives on the same floor as me at the local IGA at the bottom of our apartment building.

While he was shovelling sherbet sours and raspberry lollies into a plastic bag on a night in watching Love Island, he told me that this is how life is now.

"Work is tiring, and I don't feel like going out anymore."

Are these the sacrifices we make for working full-time?

Is this all because I work too hard five days a week? Possibly.

When Imogen asked me the question, I think I feared more than anything else, that I don't have fun anymore. And I know that isn't true.

I love riding my bike, reading in bed, seeing live music, watching silly Youtube videos, dancing at home, taking photos, eating delicious food and drinking endless cups of tea while chatting quietly with friends for hours on end.

I don't go to parties anymore.

Maybe this is what happens when you become less connected to the amount of people surrounding you, but more deeply connected within the people and activities you love.

Maybe this is what happens when you have a reason you want to come home every night.

Or perhaps my friends just don't have parties anymore.

I don't go to parties anymore. And that's okay.

With love,

Thomas

P.S What do you do for fun July? When was the last time you went to a party? Drop me a line and tell me how you really are, and about the best party you've attended in recent memory.

P.P.S. Thank you for reading my 2019 letters to July (check out my previous letters to July), where I write to an abyss with empathy, honesty and a hope that you will feel comfortable sharing more openly with your neck of the woods.