Writing brings back memories; so does reading.
This last weekend I was stuck home doing nothing productive and I decided to dig in my bookshelf. My mistake. I found this notebook from freshman year and I'm going to tell you all about it because what are the chances that anyone will read this besides maybe the girl who cried wolf? My freshman year was not my biggest mistake but it was my most dramatic year. I met a lot of people that year that I love to death but I also met some that I wish didn't even exist. Yes that is horrible but I can't help the way I feel right now. Right now. Right now is a moment when I feel as if every waterfall had been turned upside down, as if gravity had reversed the flow of the river and everything was going the opposite direction. Right now I want to jump off an airplane and let gravity suck me into the depths of this miserable Earth. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to sound suicidal or anything of the sort.
Four year ago, I was a lost freshman who had no experience in anything. I trusted EVERYONE and thought EVERYONE was the nicest. I wanted to be friends with EVERYONE. Of course anyone that knows me well enough now knows that I'm the most cynical person ever. I really was so naive that the word is a fraction of a description of how stupid I was. I'm going to be honest and say that I felt something very close to love that year and I know that I also learned what it was to lose something in a second.
One. Second. Now. I. Have. It. Now. Its. Gone.
That spiral that I found in my bookshelf has a story to tell about three friends. Three friends that stood by each other and adviced each other and loved each other with a friendship that was so honest and clean. We each had our ways of trying to figure out one thing; love. In between all the drama, catfights, and gossip, we learned to hate each other. We didn't mean to, it just happened. It went kind of like this: a child is told to move because he's about to get run over by a car but the child thinks he's too smart and can wait until the last second to move. Oops, too late.
The time that I spent with those two other girls made me learn to respect one of them only. Just one. Why? Because she was sincere. She never lied to get attention or told me crazy money stories. Forgiving is one thing, trust is another.
I won't use the whole cliche of "I forgave you but the scar reminds me of what you did" because its stupid. Here's what worries me, that a friend turns into a backstabber. What would be the one thing that would shatter me beyond pieces??? Not that I may find out that a backstabber can turn people into more backstabbers, but that a friend was not really a friend after all.
I like that word. BACKSTABBERS! It sounds funny in my mouth.
Well, I read back and can only see the good stuff and smile for a second. Too bad it turned out to be a dirty little lie, otherwise, we'd still be the three musketeers. On the other hand this just goes to prove that even though I've been 18 for 4 days, I still don't feel like an adult.
