Words Left Unspoken

Julia's Letter.

                                                                                                                                                      April 28, 2009

Dear Julia,

You were my best friend for almost as long as I can remember. We’d always play on the swing set at the old elementary school.

Throughout middle school, we were inseparable. Every project, every group assignment, no one asked us to be their partners because everyone knew we were a team. It was just a fact. Julia and Gracie—a team. Always…we were always together. More often than not, doing what you wanted to do.

I built my life around our friendship, but I’m not sure I can say the same about you. Maybe I wasn’t as important to you as I thought.  

Or at least that’s how it felt to me—especially when we entered High School.

When the summer of grade nine arrived, you changed—morphed into something different. Your t-shirts, blue jeans, and sneakers you used to love were thrown away like old trash. Suddenly, you weren’t the casual, fun-loving girl you were before. Oh no, you were anything but. You donned high heels, mini skirts, and spent all your allowance on top brand handbags.

And you wanted me to be just like you.

So, I changed as well. You were important to me—to my life. I couldn’t let that go. We hung out as much as we could, but it wasn’t the same as before, when you were still you.

You found new friends—ones a little more popular than me. All at once, it wasn’t “Julia and Gracie” anymore. Just like your old sneakers, you didn’t see much of me after that.

You stopped having time to hang out and your phone “never got” a lot of my texts. I know that’s not the truth, but hey, it’s a lie I told myself for a long time.

Despite all of this, somehow, we were still “friends”. For almost for almost three years we were friends in the sense that we never said we weren't.

Then… There was that party—the party at the end of eleventh grade? Do you remember?

You begged me to come, but I declined. You continued pleading by telling me that if I didn’t come, then we couldn’t friends anymore. Even though I knew you only meant it teasingly, as you’ve done a million times before, I couldn’t help but worry. So, I went.

And I regret going. All because I went that one, stupid, little party…our friendship ended.

When I arrived, you were nowhere to be seen. Unluckily, your boyfriend, Jacob, was waiting for me. We exchanged small talk for about five minutes before he got bored and lured me away from the party to a more secluded space. He said he just wanted to talk about your upcoming birthday—that’s why I went with him.  

But what he had in mind…it wasn’t talking. Without warning Jacob kissed me, but he clearly wanted more than just a kiss. I tried to push him away, but before I managed to pry his hands off of me, you came around the corner and spotted us—his lips smashed against mine, his hand reaching up my shirt.

If you would have stopped and took a closer look at the situation, you might have been able to see the horror and desperation in my eyes.

But you didn’t. You. Freaked. Out.

Of course, Jacob lied and told you I forced myself onto him, and you believed every word he said. I couldn’t even protest. You never gave me a chance.

You never let me say one word.

You decided that was the end of our friendship. Without hesitation or consideration you slapped an “expired” sticker on our life-long relationship just so you didn’t have to face the truth about your boyfriend.

We didn’t speak again until the start of twelfth grade, and even though we hadn’t said a word to each other all summer, you still talked about me like you knew exactly what was going on, but you didn’t—you didn’t know anything.

Rumors: they don’t die, and you can’t smother them with the truth. You knew that, but you spread them anyways.

And because the rumors weren't enough to quench your hatred against me, you went out of your way to bully me—every day. You and your society of high-heel-wearing skanks intercepted me in the halls between classes just to push me around and make my life a living hell.

A slap in the face was doled out on a daily basis, but let’s not forget the slaps that came from what you said. Even that wasn’t enough for you—you wouldn’t be satisfied until you turned everyone against me. You wouldn’t be happy until you turned my school into a prison with only one prisoner—me.

You, Julia, were once my best friend. Maybe if I still had a best friend you wouldn’t be reading this letter.

Enjoy the reputation you’ve worked so hard to keep, and don’t worry… I won’t be there to threaten it anymore,

Gracie.