TeddyGrams

The Secrets You Tell Your Teddybear.

Best Friend. February 16, 2011

Filed under: friends — teddygrams @ 10:06 pm
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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.

 

My Calculus book just got a haircut. November 16, 2010

It has been shedding sheets of plastic for so long, I decided to just cut them off with my knife. I don’t even know why I carry it around. It really is just a constant reminder of the work I should be doing.

I’ve been finding ways to avoid much thought today. Mindless essays are not going to help. I basically have my title page for my paper due in a few days. I also am running short on time to work on it. We’ll see how this ends up going, I’d rather not ruin a college visit by working on my paper while there.

I have started so many entries for this blog in the past couple days, I just haven’t gotten to completing the thoughts yet. These entries will probably never get published. Maybe I’ll do a quick summary of them like I did in the past. Right now I’m blogging because I have been avoiding it. The lack of numbers on the calendar being white is beginning to bother me so I figured I would change that.

I have actually felt quite some emotion lately due to letting my guard down. One of the things that I was doing this year was counting my tears and remembering why they were shed. The records were easily kept until about a month ago. I think I was at 9 before I lost count. I’m sure its around 30 now. I’ll try again next year I suppose. Thinking about this is rather silly; I was trying to make a point about avoiding my blog and got off subject. What do people normally do when they are outraged or feeling down? Well, what do bloggers do? We write. I wasn’t ready to try and project my feelings into some kind of coherent entry. Instead I found myself writing very lengthy IMs. It’s nice to have people to talk to.

School-wise, things are going fine. Just what I expected when I saw the numbers slipping lower weeks ago. I’m not failing; that will never happen. I guess I’ve just secured myself a place at an in-state school though.

I miss my family. I don’t know what has been causing me to stay couped up in my room lately. I’m at the lowest productivity level of my life. I don’t do anything interesting up here either. Today I had a conversation with my paternal grandmother, Mama, about the future. It all started with talking to her about abortion. I just wanted to know her views and learned quickly that they were very similar to what mine had been a year ago. The subject turned to adoption. She already knows of my future plans and hates them. Mama is convinced that I will feel the maternal urge at some point in my life. Today though she gave me her reasoning for not wanting to adopt. She feels that the children have unknown blood running through their veins, tainted by the misdoings of the children’s unknown parents. She also feels that the government should be the ones responsible for the upkeep of these children. Her thoughts are shockingly traditional sometimes, even to me. The last thing that we discussed was the topic of marriage. I made it clear that I will never have an arranged marriage. I was so ready to be shot down when I said this after hearing about her views on orphans, but no. Mama was quick to agree that this would be my choice. All I have to do is find someone my family would accept and have the traditional Indian marriage of course. This seems to be something that I could live with. We talked about the age that I should be before I start dating seriously.  Mama then went on to remind me to trust no one. Ever.

She is so right.