“She’s perfect,” he said dreamily to me.
You’re perfect, I say in my mind. I keep my mouth quiet.
“I asked her out, and she said yes!” he said, as if telling me he had won the lottery.
“That’s great,” I say as if I really meant it, and smile.
I know I tell him things that happen in my life, we’re best friends, and he tells me things as well, but I’m do more of the talking. And I never saw him this happy. And to make things worse, I absolutely despise that girl. She was a total bitch. Not just mean, a bitch I assure you. And he’s so blinded that he can’t even see that she’s merely out to embarrass him, take him as a joke for her and her friends.
I’ve had enough of this town. I hated everyone, everyone but my best friend, who won’t believe me when I tell him that the girl he’s dead for doesn’t even like him. I tried to tell him, I begged him to believe me, but he wouldn’t. And then he refused to be my friend. He said that if someone couldn’t accept ones decisions, and refused to allow them to grow, that that person wasn’t a friend. He’d said enough.
I left months earlier for college, couldn’t wait to get away from that town. I worked as a waitress, to pay off some bills, I was on scholarship, I studies hard, and all throughout those four years I spent in New York, I loved the feeling of being a city girl. I didn’t miss a single thing from that town, not even my best friend. When I left, I had nothing to lose. That made it much easier for me. So I guess I only have gratitude to everyone.
I decided, after ten years away, I should come back for a visit, as a formality of course. I was actually being sent there by my boss to check some things out for we are opening a new company based there. I enter that town in my Versace suite, Prada shoes, $100 haircut, and my pride. When my dad picks me up from the airport, he barely noticed me coming. He said I looked different, that I didn’t look like me, and I told that this is what I am, what I’ve always wanted to be, and what I will be, and he could do nothing about it. After that cold welcoming, I am brought to back to the house that is as big as my apartment, which is made up of antique. I hug my mom, thinking about how I didn’t even miss her, not a bit, for I knew no one on this family actually cared about me. My brother was there, still living in the house, he’s in college in a community college. I tell them I have business to do, people to meet with, and so they leave me a while to do my job.
I head out for a while to Drew’s house, the only friend I ever had. I knock on the door, and his mother squeals at the sight of me, and praises me non-stop. He calls forth her son, and Drew stares at me as if I’m an alien. We end up having coffee in the café we used to hang out in. the first thing he told me was that he’s sorry for what he said ten years ago. He told me it haunted him since that day. I keep quiet, it didn’t haunt me at all, well, only a day or two. I told him that I was fine with it.
Then he tells me about what happened with her. They went to prom together, and she showed up with another guy, a guy just right for her. He ended up sitting on the corner while everyone danced to the music. He said he longed for me that night. That’s when I burst. How dare he long for me once he had no one, once he lost the girl who wasn’t even in his league? And then he cut me off, telling me that ever since he saw how amazing I was, he fell in love with me. How he noticed how beautiful and kind-spirited his best friend was. And he told me that up to now, he still loved me.
It didn’t pain me at all to tell him that ever since I left, I practically despised him. I was a monster. I walked out, and headed to my scheduled meeting. Throughout my stay there, Drew called my house constantly, luckily not catching me when I’m there. He took every chance he got to speak to me, but I ignored him.
I left without talking to him. Until now I don’t know if what I did was right or wrong. I lost the ability to feel. I’ve found different people, better people, those who care about me, and are living lives similar to mine, therefore being able to relate. But I guess the memory of my one best friend, the one best friend whom I loved, will always be with me. But sometimes you never do get a chance to have your time with the one you love. Something could happen, any time, to anyone.
That’s pretty much what happened to me. I died in a car crash, Drew continued writing to me, sent me emails and texts. He wasn’t informed about my death. And so I watched him live his life, marry a simple girl, led a simple life with its struggles. I watched him play with his kids, go home at night, wake up in the morning. And then I wondered why I did that. Then I realized I did still love him. Till death did I love him.
