text: Seated around a table, we were all there. The whole gang of us, gathered for our usual impromptu dinner meetup. We could go months without all of us meeting each other, sometimes it'll be merely weeks since our last dinner. Jack was doing the usual and highlighting some of the achievements within our group and some notable ones from our extended list of mutual friends from high school. "We've graduated high school almost 10 years ago, Jack. You can give it a rest" I thought to myself, staring at the condensation forming on my beer mug. I can still hear the timbre of his voice slowly increasing in intensity as he comes back to our circle and congratulates Charles on his upcoming wedding. The table erupts into hoots and cheerful guffaws while I crack a wry smile and look at the groom to be on my left. I squeeze his shoulder and congratulate him on landing the girl now that his career has taken an upward spike. He looks over at me and utters through snorts of laughter "What about you? You've been so quiet and hardly said a word up till now. How's work buddy? Still living the manslut lifestyle?" The entire table laughs agreeably to the last comment while some chip in about my professional life. *** >What do all of you want to hear? That I hate my job? That the money I see at the month's end don't mean a damn thing to me? I hate my job, I hate the life that is now slowly shaped by decisions that I let happen instead of decisions that I chose. Should I tell all of you that I am on the verge of getting fired? That I will be the first and probably only failure in this group? Should I rave about my "manslut" lifestyle and how I would gladly give up the meaningless sex and materialistic women for someone who will be my last phone call at night? That sleeping with a new woman every few months is my way of creating some semblance of success in my life? *** I look back at Charles and a knot tightens around my throat. I merely shrug my shoulders sheepishly. "Being a manslut keeps my options open, no ball and chain" I retort with another wry smile as the dinner continues without missing a beat. Somehow, when you keep the status quo, no one suspects just how deep your troubles run. The dinner gradually comes to an end and Jack mentions a nightcap. I agree with Larry, Charles and Alan also looking forward to something a little stiffer than just a cold beer. We all proceed to a franchise watering hole and order a round of shots. More lighthearted discussion about wedding plans, a stag night and the usual array of banter cap the night. My slow, deliberate walk back to my car allowed me some time to stew and attempt to get my thoughts in order. Just how did I start my fall from grace? Then again, whatever lofty heights I achieved were only ever in my head, it was not even anything flattering when compared to my peers or my friends. It dawned on me then, it was no rapid descent from the clouds but a continuous slide into the depths that originated from sheer and utter mediocrity. I got into my car and held the steering wheel tight. My chest tightened and I felt a flush and dampness on my cheeks as my vision suddenly distorted. I felt something deep in my gut, something primal that I've not felt in a long time. I felt fear. Fear that I have no more direction and control of my life, that I was fast becoming a passenger of consequence rather than choice.