We met in the fifth grade. I was new and scared, having just moved to a small town where everyone but me had known each other since they were born. She was a loner, because she was quiet and shy. I was drawn to her, she welcomed me.
The first time I invited her to my house, it was awkward. We didn't know what to say to each other. We decided to watch a movie to fill the silence. We chose The Cure. Neither of us had ever seen it before.
In case you've never seen it, I'll tell you, it's a tear-jerker in a major way. So there we were, two pre-pubescent girls, complete strangers, sitting on opposite ends of the couch, trying to hide from each other that we were bawling our eyes out, because we were embarrassed of what the other would think. When we both finally glanced sideways and saw our matching tear-streaked faces, we burst out laughing.
A friendship was born.
We were wonderful friends. We complemented each other so well. I was flighty and outgoing and fun, I pulled her out of her shell and helped her make friends. She was calm and sensible and encouraging. She kept my under control, and built my confidence. We were a great team at meeting new people. I would pull strangers into our circle by flirting and telling jokes. She would keep them there by being a good listener and making them feel important.
Through the years we stayed very close, growing as people, but our bond remaining the same. Our struggles in life changed, but we still handled them together. I would go to her crying about my newest boy troubles and she'd comfort me. She'd worry about school, and I'd coach her through.
Everyone has had a friend like that growing up. At least I hope they did. We were like sisters. Even though we shared no blood, we were family.
But then she met him. At first it was ok. We'd all hang out together, the two of them, and whomever my boyfriend was at the time. We'd go to movies, to the mall, to the park, where ever. Everything was different, but only slightly, it was an adjustmant that was easy to make.
Then she fucked him.
And like a switch, everything was gone. It was never all of us hanging out anymore. It was her going to his house to have sex. ALL. THE. TIME. All of her "Yeah, I'll definitely be there"s were followed with "I'm sorry I never made it"s. She never had time for anyone but him.
Part of me was happy for her. She was in love. She'd found "the perfect guy" for her. But most of me was angry. Angry at him for stealing her. Angry at her for deserting me. Angry at life for making me lose my friend.
I decided to wait it out. I figured they'd break up eventually, and I'd get my friend back.
That was years ago.
Now she thinks she is going to marry him. And I am happy for her.
But I still mourn the friend I had once. The friend it seems I may never get back. Sometimes I sit down and watch The Cure... it still makes me cry. But occassionally o few of those tears have nothing to do with the movie.
I miss her. But she doesn't care. Her world revolves around him now. There is no place for me. No room to be what we used to be.
Blood may be thicker than water, but apparently semen is thicker than both.
The first time I invited her to my house, it was awkward. We didn't know what to say to each other. We decided to watch a movie to fill the silence. We chose The Cure. Neither of us had ever seen it before.
In case you've never seen it, I'll tell you, it's a tear-jerker in a major way. So there we were, two pre-pubescent girls, complete strangers, sitting on opposite ends of the couch, trying to hide from each other that we were bawling our eyes out, because we were embarrassed of what the other would think. When we both finally glanced sideways and saw our matching tear-streaked faces, we burst out laughing.
A friendship was born.
We were wonderful friends. We complemented each other so well. I was flighty and outgoing and fun, I pulled her out of her shell and helped her make friends. She was calm and sensible and encouraging. She kept my under control, and built my confidence. We were a great team at meeting new people. I would pull strangers into our circle by flirting and telling jokes. She would keep them there by being a good listener and making them feel important.
Through the years we stayed very close, growing as people, but our bond remaining the same. Our struggles in life changed, but we still handled them together. I would go to her crying about my newest boy troubles and she'd comfort me. She'd worry about school, and I'd coach her through.
Everyone has had a friend like that growing up. At least I hope they did. We were like sisters. Even though we shared no blood, we were family.
But then she met him. At first it was ok. We'd all hang out together, the two of them, and whomever my boyfriend was at the time. We'd go to movies, to the mall, to the park, where ever. Everything was different, but only slightly, it was an adjustmant that was easy to make.
Then she fucked him.
And like a switch, everything was gone. It was never all of us hanging out anymore. It was her going to his house to have sex. ALL. THE. TIME. All of her "Yeah, I'll definitely be there"s were followed with "I'm sorry I never made it"s. She never had time for anyone but him.
Part of me was happy for her. She was in love. She'd found "the perfect guy" for her. But most of me was angry. Angry at him for stealing her. Angry at her for deserting me. Angry at life for making me lose my friend.
I decided to wait it out. I figured they'd break up eventually, and I'd get my friend back.
That was years ago.
Now she thinks she is going to marry him. And I am happy for her.
But I still mourn the friend I had once. The friend it seems I may never get back. Sometimes I sit down and watch The Cure... it still makes me cry. But occassionally o few of those tears have nothing to do with the movie.
I miss her. But she doesn't care. Her world revolves around him now. There is no place for me. No room to be what we used to be.
Blood may be thicker than water, but apparently semen is thicker than both.
