I had one year left in me at that high school at the time; I had made new friends, and to my surprise, had noticed I’ve gotten a new neighbor as well. Directly behind my house, in front of the town park, was a house, in it a family with kids and one visitor. This visitor which came to live in that house was a girl; not like any other, mind you, she was different, she was tough, she could stand up on her own two feet and face any trouble that came her way.
She had character; she was built for this tough world. She became my friend and we had a good year of friendship, but of course, there are always ups and downs in every friendship. Eventually I let my feelings get the best of me and I kept telling myself that I had fallen for her.
We hung out a lot together, for it was a small town and we had nothing but time and absolutely nothing to do. Slowly but surely we got to know each other better, we cracked jokes, we hung out during recess as well. She had my back and it felt good to trust in her.
But time moved passed and I had missed what I thought was an opportunity; what I had missed however was that her intentions with me were always to just be friends.
At a later moment, she found someone else and eventually got together with him. To me, he was everything I wasn’t…and better. I kept telling myself that eventually she would dump him and move on to be with me, but I was blind to the fact that it would never happen.
When the year was gone and over with, I was moving out to go to another place. College was right out the door and my memories of her would be left behind, as would our friendship.
She remained in town and after years had passed, I would rarely visit, and even though we weren't as close anymore, I would run into her and all I could think of was the memories.
The good. The bad.
She had been a really good friend to me; stood up for me when I was picked on, cracked jokes at my expense but never to hurt me, and her laugh would always lift my spirit.
But we all have to move on, even from the good memories, because sometimes, a good memory can be more damaging than a bad one.
She had character; she was built for this tough world. She became my friend and we had a good year of friendship, but of course, there are always ups and downs in every friendship. Eventually I let my feelings get the best of me and I kept telling myself that I had fallen for her.
We hung out a lot together, for it was a small town and we had nothing but time and absolutely nothing to do. Slowly but surely we got to know each other better, we cracked jokes, we hung out during recess as well. She had my back and it felt good to trust in her.
But time moved passed and I had missed what I thought was an opportunity; what I had missed however was that her intentions with me were always to just be friends.
At a later moment, she found someone else and eventually got together with him. To me, he was everything I wasn’t…and better. I kept telling myself that eventually she would dump him and move on to be with me, but I was blind to the fact that it would never happen.
When the year was gone and over with, I was moving out to go to another place. College was right out the door and my memories of her would be left behind, as would our friendship.
She remained in town and after years had passed, I would rarely visit, and even though we weren't as close anymore, I would run into her and all I could think of was the memories.
The good. The bad.
She had been a really good friend to me; stood up for me when I was picked on, cracked jokes at my expense but never to hurt me, and her laugh would always lift my spirit.
But we all have to move on, even from the good memories, because sometimes, a good memory can be more damaging than a bad one.
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