I was your best friend growing up.
We caught frogs, dressed up as King Arthur and his knights, and did everything that wonderful together.
I held your hand during a scary movie when we were both six.
We had our first sleepover together and laughed so hard chocolate milk came out our noses.
I tried to braid your hair and fix it with my pink and purple butterfly clips. You kept saying, “Ow, ow, ow, OWWWWWWWW. OW, ow, ow, OWWWWW.”
Once you stole my ice-cream cone and I cried for fifteen minutes until you had your mom buy me a new one.
I taught you how to do a fancy spin while dancing to classical music.
You taught me how to shoot a bow and arrow.
We raced laps in the pool, and you would always let me win because you were faster.
We always use to fight over the last slice of pizza.
You would always say, “Ladies first.” When we went to a haunted house. That was literally the one time you remembered to say it and follow the rule.
You loved avocado’s and I hated them.
You were an extrovert and I was an introvert. You made me do amazingly risky things, and I made you stop seeing the world as you always had: A playground.
Wanderlust was twisted in every strand of your DNA, but I was fine to stay home.
You let me draw a Harry Potter lightning scar on your head in sharpie, and you wore it to school with pride. (5th Grade)
On my birthday one year, you bought me ten blue and gold balloons.
(My favorite colors) You bought them with your own money and hid them in my room.
We were playing tag with some of your friends one day after school and I tripped. I hurt my ankle but didn’t want to seem like a “crybaby” because that had been my nickname for a very long time. You noticed and insisted we stop because you “Had a broken toe.” When we went to the doctor it turned out I had a bad sprain. You, in order not to embarrass me, wore a bandage on your toe for a week.
Remember the sledding accident we had? You had a black eye for a week because you hit the mailbox, not me. You always said it was luck, but then I wonder why you leaned the sled……….
One day when I was being teased at school, you called your mom. Then after school, you guys took me to a bookshop, and I got to buy the series I had been wanting.
I like remembering things like this when we were younger. Because when you got older, things got different. You were more distant and less caring. Football practice, parties, and other social events kept us apart. You rose in social rankings, and I stayed at the bottom. I liked spending Friday nights at home, drinking hot cocoa. You use to do it with me, but you stopped when these things started taking up your time.
Why?
Why did you change? If I had a reason, maybe it would not hurt so much. I hate how people tell me we were so different, from completely different universes.
We were not. Our differences made our friendship stronger because we were each other’s support. We changed each other’s views and helped each other think outside of the box.
No, what changed us I think was what we believed. I believed in simplistic, and that life did not have to be fancy to be real. You believed in the better things of life. The partying, the sports, and the fans. You didn’t want to change your views, to help fit into my world or understand me. So you stopped trying. I could not fit into your world, and you didn’t want me to. You somehow wanted us both: Me, and the world of your devising. Where you were popular, a sport king, and had tons of friends.
In the end that is what made us split, you didn’t care enough about me to try. And I cared enough about you not to.
I will respect your choice, but that does not mean I will ever like it.
People say I was just your imaginary friend because we never talked again after tenth (Sophomore year) grade. I was simply enough shy introverted nerd, and you were the school’s popular golden boy. Athletic and chivalrous to the very core. (Was what everyone said.)But boy, you were never anything but real to me.
Some days I still wake up with the urge to talk to you. Tell you about my life. But then I remember: You don’t care anymore. We grew apart, because being friends with a girl, especially one like me, was not cool.
I hope you are happy, living the kind of life you chose over me.
Because I’m not, but I would give anything in the world to make you happy. And it seems like you are.
Perfectly Imperfect Me 