Best Friend. February 16, 2011

How many people truly know the meaning out this? I know I do. Putting it to words could be rather difficult though. I don’t remember an exact day when I the words “best friend” first crossed my mind or even who they were in reference to.

Growing up, I felt like I had a strange curse. All of my “best friends” always left me with the exception of my best friend and cousin who has always been there in the background. There was Hailey, our neighbor that I grew up with. I was convinced that we would forever be together. She moved to the wretched land of Canada. All my other friends knew how close we were and consoled me. I soon met Catherine, a foster child who talked to me as I moped the exit of Hailey from my life. We became as close as we could be within a year’s time, but she too moved. Foster children always seems to be leaving. My next best friend was a girl that I still see everyday. We were close from the fourth grade to about sixth when our class schedules no longer matched up enough. This year, twelfth grade, is actually the first time that I’ve had a class with her since. I was left in middle school best-friend less. I finally found a new best friend in a boy in my math class. A boy that I lost quickly to his girlfriends to be (though, they are both close to me now, 4 years later.) It was around this point, in eight grade that I began to call my new neighbor my best friend. I had known her for about half a year. For almost all of the 5 years that I’ve known this girl, I’ve called her my best friend.

I have had exactly one person who I called best friend without hesitation, I could never see anything going wrong. Why? Because I saw nothing else but perfection in my best friend. When I say perfection, I don’t mean each action was perfectly good or that she did nothing wrong, far from that. I saw the perfect best friend according to my history. A best friend who would not leave me. A friend who I would maintain ties with my whole life, never lose to the corrosiveness of time. All I worried about was physical distance and not having enough time together. I forgot about the depth of out relationship, I forgot about the inevitable chaos that enters our lives.

I have such trouble saying these two words now, best friend. Why? Because my fatal flaw is my lack of the ability to forgive. Granted, I say I have forgiven. I have for the most part. I have forgiven my friend for her actions, for her choices. I have not forgiven her for teaching my a lesson about myself. I am not as independent as I like to think. I’m always looking for support.  I think my little best-friend chronology shows that. I need people. I especially need her.

My mother came in for a second to show me a new shirt that she had bought and I asked her to stay. I told her about the awful day that my friend had gone through today. I told her about the things that she had to deal with. Alone, without me. I feel terrible, I hoped all day long that she would make plans with me. Now that I think about it, why would she? All that she wanted was to forget it all. It is the job of a “best friend” to deem it necessary to make plans and execute them when a friend is feeling down. My mother gave me one look and told me to stop worrying about it and to try to study. My mother has obviously never experienced the companionship of a best friend.

I have an awful headache right now that is making reading my government book to prepare for my test tomorrow almost impossible.  I think sleep would be a better idea.

Black Friday Nightmares. November 26, 2010

Not really. It was a fairly good day, but a great evening. My mother forgot to set a 3 am alarm for us so I awoke to a family rushing to get out of the door. I wasn’t really in the mood for shopping, I just enjoyed listening to music with my sister and messing around with her. She found this oddly shaped piece of cocking that had come off of the building we were waiting in line next to. She proceeded to throw it at everyone: my mother and father, my grandfather, and me. We laughed and laughed and before we knew it the line was moving. It reminded me of being really little and unable to wait. We really didn’t care about going into the stores, we just enjoyed each other’s company.

When we got home I crawled back into bed. My sister soon joined me and snuggled up with a few of the many pillows that surround me as I sleep. She was quick to leave; she prefers the softness of her bed to mine. I slept for almost 6 more hours. In that time I had some of the most vivid dreams I have had in a long time.

It started on a Broadway stage. It was “The Little Mermaid.” I was Ariel. This does not surprise me. I have seen the Little Mermaid movies too many times to count. The first song that I ever learned to sing was “Part of Your World.” I still to this day sing it in the shower. Anyways, the setting of the dream shifted from the stage to an actual place. I felt like I was IN the movie. It was as if there were still people watching and I was still nervous about messing up. There was barely any time for worrying though, I was on a ship (presumably Price Eric’s) and the water around me was beginning to move in. It was like Calypso from Pirates of the Caribbean. Ursula and Davy Jones’ monster were both there stirring the water up enough to take the ship under. Ursula sprayed ink everywhere and everything was black. When I opened my eyes (still in the dream) I was now in a strawberry field. I was wearing a white dress with daisies in my hair and dancing barefoot  – so cliche right. None of this dream was very original until now. All of my loved ones started to join me in my dance. Soon their loved ones appeared as well, and the loved one’s loved ones appeared. It was like the 6 degrees of seperation rule had brought everyone in existence (real or in memory)  to this field and we all had not a care in the world except having a good time together. The feeling that I felt at that moment in that dream is impossible to describe, it was beyond joy or happiness.  The collective cheer sparked something; it is that something that I think we are all after in our lives. I had a few moments to ponder this before the dream changed. All the people that must not have truly been living dropped to the ground. Terror spread. Despair crept its way through the crowd. Reality returned. I awoke to see that it was the afternoon. I joined my father and sister; we went back out shopping. I spent the rest of the day quiet, thinking about this dream.

This evening was nice. It was a nice little close to my Thanksgiving break. Tomorrow will come and I will resume my normal weekend schedule and the worry about exams will begin.

Today was my best friend’s grandfather’s 89th birthday. It makes me think of the future. All grandparents have stories to tell, the common theme is change. I’m content with the way my life is now. Change is coming. I guess I just have to accept that. When I was really little I would always wonder when something new would come. I would want to make new friends, live in new places, study different things. I’ve settled into habits now, sort of strange to think about. I like my established friends, I don’t want to move away from what I have, and I wish that I could narrow my studies to certain things. I’ve become much more close-minded. It needs to change. This ramblely passage is not what I intended it to be but so be it.

I think my sister’s presence in the room somehow has effected the way I’m writing. It is strange to have another person watch the words spill across the screen. I don’t mind it though. Today has been a good day with her. Snape, Snape, Severus Snape.