Monday, September 30, 2013


I've always been this sort of solitary girl. I spend almost all my time alone, crippled by the sheer idea of going up to someone and saying hi. I hide behind my books and my writing because it's easy. For me, having friends, especially close ones is really hard. I've had a few very close friends, but I never really tried to make it last. Only once did I really try, and it broke my heart.

When I was younger, I was bullied. I had no friends, and as hard as I tried, it was impossible for me to have friends; being friends with me meant social suicide. When I finally changed schools, I met this boy. Instantly, we became friends. He really was like a brother to me. If people ever asked if we were dating, we'd laugh at the idea, like two siblings would. I was always there for him, through thick and thin. He knew all my secrets, and I knew all of his.
One day, he disappeared. Vanished from my life without as much of a word as goodbye. It completely broke my heart. He'd met a girl and forgot his old friends, including me. Over night, I had lost my first and closest friend, ironically to the girl who had bullied me, though he doesn't know it. I tried confronting him, and I got nothing. No reason why he stopped speaking to me, no reason why we couldn't be friends. I'll admit, I cried. A lot and for a long time. I had lost the one person I always wanted to talk to, to ask for advice, and every time something happened, he was the one I wanted to tell it to. It's been 5 years since we last spoke, and I still wish I could.
I understand that people change, they move on, but it hurts nonetheless. He was the first person I ever truly trusted, and he completely betrayed that already fragile trust. Maybe that's why it hurt so bad. Some might think I was in love with him and never realized it. Whatever the reason may be, it changed me.

For a long time, I became very pessimistic. I didn't want to have friends. Even when I did manage to make friends, I found any excuse to leave. My reasoning was that I would rather leave, knowing it was my fault, than be left, and never knowing why.
Slowly, I got better. Fighting the urge to run away, finding the courage to face my fears. It's still hard to make friends for me. I'm terrified of talking to people. I still want to run away and give up, but I try as hard as I can, kicking myself in the butt to stay and fight for those I love. Friendship is so precious; you never know when you'll find that one friend who will leave a permanent mark, or if they will leave an irreplaceable hole in your life.

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