When I was very much younger, I once had a friend I practically worshipped. She was beautiful, tall, intelligent, she was almost perfect. I wondered everyday why she would pick me, a nobody, as her friend. I was short, fat and I once got 78% in Science.
We shared everything about our lives and she would often show me a side of her she didn’t show anyone. Every single stolen minute I had with her made the young me incredibly happy, it was as if we were in a world with noone else but the two of us. We spent hours lying on the grass talking about our deepest darkest secrets, sitting on the sofa exchanging stories of crushes and giggling uncontrollably when her cats lined up to listen to our stories. It was a beautiful friendship, if only she wasn’t so caught up with the whole popularity race.
In school, she was undeniably one of the most popular girls. Guys would constantly try to get her attention while girls would die for her to write in their cute autobiography books. When she was surrounded by these people, she would pretend I meant nothing to her. She would pick on me, call me mean names, make fun of me while everyone laughed along.
It was alright for a while, because I secretly knew deep inside she loved me the most and would do anything for me. But slowly, my self-confidence plummeted. Sometimes the jokes would get too far, and I would sulk and not talk to her for days. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her my issues because I didn’t want to be petty and lose her, so I would avoid her and she would get mad and accused me for being a bad friend.
This weird friendship went on for a while, and we would ping pong back and forth between whispering secrets and giggling, to being mad at each other for days on end, to hurling insults at each other.
One day while we were with a big bunch of people, she jokingly told everyone a secret I had only told her in utmost confidence in the comforts of her room with her cats watching. I was dumbfounded but I laughed along when everyone turned to me and laughed. I kept telling myself that she meant no malice, that she must have in the heat of the moment thought I could take it. I couldn’t, but I kept it inside me.
Our friendship ended that day for me. In my eyes, she was no longer the perfect girl I had loved. The days of lying on the grass became a painful memory instead and I started inching away from her. She had built her confidence at my expense, and I felt utterly stupid for sharing all my secrets with her.
I haven’t spoken to her for what seems like an eternity now, but I realized in that time that maybe if I had confidence in myself to begin with, I wouldn’t have allowed the hurt and hatred to manifest inside me. Maybe then, I could have somehow salvaged a friendship that I had cherished so much before.
But it happened, and I’d lost her. Maybe in another lifetime, we would find each other, lie on the grass with the sun shining brightly above us, and be in our own world again.