I Needed That

Impromptu night, under the stars,
Friends, drinks, treats and bars.
Remove the mask and let me breathe,
Reconnect, smile, find something underneath.
Something that left me all too long ago,
A version of myself I used to know.
Not the one who carries every weight,
Who measures joy by what’s still late.
Not the man who talks in plans and lists,
While life keeps slipping through his fists.

Tonight, nobody asked me to explain.
Nobody needed polished strength or pain.
They only laughed when I walked in the room,
Pulled up a chair, made space in the gloom.

And God, I needed that.
I needed the stupid jokes across the table,
The arm round the shoulder saying, “You good, mate?”
The eyes that lit up when they saw my face,
Like my presence still carried some kind of place.

I’d forgotten what easy felt like.
Forgotten conversation without defence.
Forgotten that being wanted
Can arrive without performance.

For a few small hours,
I wasn’t surviving.
I was there.
Alive in it.

Music leaking from somewhere distant,
Cold air tangled in warm conversation,
And every smile handed back a little piece
Of whatever I’ve been misplacing lately.

Maybe that’s the tragedy of adulthood.
Nobody notices the loneliness at first.
You become dependable, busy, useful,
While slowly disappearing in plain sight.

Until one random night
Under half-lit skies
With people who love you louder than you love yourself,
Reminds you.

You are still here.
Still funny.
Still worthy.
Still someone people are glad to see walk through the door.

And driving home,
Windows down, midnight air on my skin,
I caught myself smiling at nothing.
Or maybe not nothing.

Maybe at the quiet relief
Of remembering
I hadn’t lost myself completely after all.