The Last Thanksgiving

I had spent the day bitterly cooking in the kitchen of our fractured home. It was one of my favorite holidays (because it was all about food, duh) but I had barely kept from crying in the mashed potatoes. My best friends were here, they lived with us, in fact. But I was feeling outrageously alone. Finally, we all sat down for dinner. I felt like it was an outrageous accomplishment for us all. When I assed the overly tall chair and pulled myself into the table I let a sigh escape. "Ahhhhhhh...!" It sounded a bit more desperate than I had intended. I hoped no one noticed. The meal started off fine, great, even. Everyones plates were filled. The wine glasses were too. The conversation started off effortlessly, it seemed, and bounced around the table. A table surrounded by people familiar to each other, having familiar conversation, and familiar enough to take ticklish jabs at one another. There were laughs and frowns, but the frowns hadn't lasted. Around about the last few bites on everyone's plate a conversational wrecking ball came barreling through the dining room. My dearest friend piped up with a feigned loud laughter dropped his fists with silverware to the table and said "OOOH-KAY! When are you two crazy kids going to throw in the fucking towel? Because THIS is outrageous to watch and I imagine fucking miserable to keep up." Some more feigned laughter and he looked back down at his plate. Obviously wishing he could be as gone as the green beans.