I have been thinking for the last few days about a former friend. It happens every time I listen to certain bands, like hellogoodbye or The Academy Is... It's been nearly a year since we last spoke and longer than that since we've been close.
She was my best friend for so long. She knew just about everything. When I needed to talk to someone, it was to her that I would turn. She helped me conquer demons before others even knew they existed. For some reason, we started to fall apart. Maybe we had outlived our time. Even after I moved, we held it together for a while. We weren't as close, but we still talked every couple days.
We were always so different. I, the introverted, academic rule-follower; she the bend-it-break-it-see-where-this-takes-us. It didn't seem like such a big deal through primary school. Into seventh year, it got a smidge weird. She was a track runner, but in the off-season she was all for trying other things. Being her, she didn't have any trouble when she wanted a boyfriend. So the progression began, leading to drinking, drugs, short-lived flings with aspiring rock stars - though they did have tour dates booked as openers - and pregnancy scares. I didn't join her; it didn't much appeal to me.
We were still pretty close. I was always there for her, until I realized two things: she kept having the same problems, like clockwork, every couple months. Those were the times she would call me at midnight, crying, and I would wake up or lay aside my school work. About six months after that epiphany, I needed to talk. She didn't have time. She didn't have time when I needed her and didn't know where else to turn, not then, not after. Our phone calls and conversations became monologues about her life. That in itself didn't bother me so much as that I was not important, at all, seemingly.
I broke it off, stopped calling, stopped checking in online. As of now, she doesn't have any way to get in touch with me. When I moved, I didn't give her my new mobile number. I gave up on her.
In certain light, I feel guilty about it. Usually, I know I made the right move, for me. I needed to move forward. I miss her. I miss our friendship. I miss knowing she had someone reliable and responsible to look out for her, someone who wouldn't be passed out at a party when she needed them. C'est la vie. I cannot change what has happened.
Lindsey, if you ever come across this: I miss you. I love you. Please be careful.
With love,
Genni a.k.a. Glitterface
P.S.
In another direction, this video is incredible. It is also analogous to one of the many, many reasons I do not want a smartphone.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XuX7qTKzouo
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