Left Out Again

I was jealous. I had been sober for about a month and was attending meetings regularly, but nobody seemed to like me. Everyone was polite enough. Some people shook my hand or nodded and said "hello," but no one offered me any hugs or engaged me in any deep conversation. Few people knew my name (although, of course, I didn't know their names either), and I thought I was back in the cliquish world where you had to be somebody or know somebody to be accepted.