You are talking to hundreds of people right now and none of them are in the room.
I counted. The little numbers keep changing so fast. There are hearts flying up the side of the screen like bubbles, and you tap them back, and you say "thank you for the roses" to somebody named a bunch of letters and numbers. Are they your friends? You said hi to them like friends. You said "welcome back" like you missed them.
Here is the part I keep looking at. You are smiling so big. Bigger than you smile at dinner. You have your good voice on, the one you never used with me. And when the numbers go up you get happy, really happy, I can see it.
But nobody is there. I keep checking the door. The couch is empty. It is just you, holding the phone up with your arm getting tired, talking to the ceiling light because that is where you look so your face looks best.
Do you remember when we used to talk to the mirror and pretend it was a whole audience clapping for us? I thought that was the most fun thing in the world. I thought when we got big we would have a REAL crowd, a real one, with everybody's actual faces.
You found the crowd. I am proud. I really am.
But when you're done and you tap the button and it goes quiet, who's there to walk out with you?