Small Parts

He would tell them that he had to go. That he wasn't feeling well, or had a late night, or had something to do the next morning. He would tell them something. He did not want to be around them for any length of time longer than necessary, and did not want to be there at all but felt the obligation. He had to show some small sign of support. But more than that he needed to show that he was better, bigger, that he shouldn't be there in the first place. And perhaps that message were better served by not showing up at all. But there was that part of him, however small, the part that kept checking his hair and added cologne, the part that ironed his shirt and then ironed another. It was this small part that knew he wasn't bigger, or better, or anything of the sort. That he craved this kind of thing, these kind of people. And that he was going not because he had a message, or nothing better to do, but because he wanted to be there.