the things I wish I would've said

faded memories

I think I spent fifth and sixth grade pretty well. I had a group of close friends that I hung out with everyday. never really had any conflicts with them either. I found a boy I liked, my first crush. school soon became a boring but comfortable place to me. I grew up a lot during that time - both physically and mentally.

as I packed up my old books, stuffed animals, and tiny clothes into cardboard boxes, I packed up my memories too. by the end of my summer cleaning, all of my bad memories and reminders of the past were put aside and away, secured under my bed. third and fourth grade soon became a story for me to tell, not to remember. and I thought, no I knew, that those things would never happen to me again. 

first day of seventh grade aka junior high.

the start of everything bad for everyone. the place where everybody's mind goes to the gutter. the place that makes you want to laugh and cry hysterically at the same time. the place where students plan to drop out right when their sixteenth birthday hits.

yup. fun.

the soon-to-be-hated-by-future-me bell chimed right as I walked into first period - algebra. great, I was almost late to first period. as I slide into my seat as discreetly as possible, I scanned my eyes across the room, desperately wishing for at least one friend. as I looked around, I saw many familiar faces not just from the year before, but from the school I had went to in third grade. as the day progressed, I reunited with many of my old friends back from third grade. and then I saw her.

sandy hadn't really changed much - she pretty much looked the same. I didn't have any classes with her, but it seemed as though she had a lot of friends. we talked once, I think, just to say hi. we didn't act like we knew each other before that. we never really got close again - perfectly fine with me. and then third trimester rolled around. march second. seventh period. literacy. 

I had gotten into the classroom, claiming a table with two seats. I crossed my fingers while staring at the door, willing my friend to walk into the door. to my disappointment, my friend never walked in. as the bell rang I flipped through my book, not wanting to lose points for ssr. and then someone came in. with her long black hair bouncing around her shoulders she ran in and apologized for being late, blaming it on her changed schedule. I scoffed behind my book, it was literally third trimester, who's late to their class because of their changed schedule? I returned back to my more interesting book when I felt a weight settle on the right side of me. I looked up and there she was.

sandy.

she smiled at me and got her book out from her huge pile of things. I raised my eyebrow at her but offered a smile, not wanting to seem mean. behind her book she whispered, 

"well I guess we're seat partners now. I'm so happy we're in the same class. I was really worried that I wouldn't have any friends in this class."

friends. huh.

and just like that, we became friends again. it was as if third grade had never happened. as if the hurt from my past years had been erased by that one seemingly innocent sentence. as if her wrongs had been deleted because of passed time. and at that time, my memories were not in my head to remind me that this was still sandy, this was still the same girl who had bullied me or watched me get bullied years ago. at that moment, I was just happy I could make another friend.

we became close - no, best friends once we got into eighth grade. we were inseparable and everybody knew we were each other's best friend. my mom, knowing my history with her, warned me at first, not wanting me to get hurt by her again. I assured her every time, telling her that that was ancient history - it was just the past after all.

the first few months of our friendship was great. I had so much fun with her from hours of bike riding to sleepovers in which we would stay up until the next morning.

and then the honeymoon phase was over. 

I started seeing things that I used to not see or ignore. I saw the way she brushed me off in front of her other friends. the way she would react when I didn't reply to her calls and texts right away or if I went out with other friends. the way she would pick fights, blaming me that I wasn't trying enough in the friendship. the way she blamed me as the reason for being mad, and making me believe that I truly was the issue.

soon hanging out with her wasn't fun. in fact, it seemed like work to me - like a job. something I knew I had to do to keep this relationship intact, but not necessarily by choice. the time spent with her seemed like wasted time and soon I stopped liking her. but I never stopped being her friend. for some reason, I didn't like her, but I wanted to be accepted by her. I cared about her thoughts towards me. I cared too much.

I talked with my mom about this, telling her I didn't know what to do. she and I were so different in real life but I would change when I was with her. by choice. I would change so I fit more well with her. so she would accept me. even if it meant saying horrible things I didn't really mean. even if it meant doing things that I definitely wouldn't do. but it was my choice.

I knew that being with her was changing me and that it was better for both of us if I just broke off being best friends. but I couldn't. because when I wasn't with her I had a head full of thoughts of what to say to her. but when I was with her, the thoughts just vanished. my mind was a blank slate - and all I could do was smile and nod along as she planned out our next weekend.

one day we had a fight at the end of the lunch period. she accused me of not putting in anything into the relationship. right as the bell rang we both picked up our stuff and huffed out of the lunch room to our next class. it was just our luck that we had geometry right afterwards - together. for the whole period I stole glances at her, mentally freaking out and debating over what I should do. at the end of geometry, I rushed over to her and apologized to her profusely. for what? I don't know. I remember saying sorry to her and promising her that I would do better. she gave me a grin that I recognized but no longer liked. she assured me, telling me it was okay, warning me to not do it again. what was it? I'm still not sure. then she said the thing that shocked me - she said while laughing,

"you know, I was going to play a prank on you and tell you that we shouldn't be friends anymore right after class. ahahaha but since you said sorry I think there's no need to play that prank. god, why did you have to apologize? I wanted to prank you."

funny.

that's hilarious, really.

because it's so funny to play that kind of a prank on your friend who you just had a fight with.

really?

but did I stop being friends with her after that?             no. 

and am I still friends with her?                                              well, yes.

and she's gotten a bit better. and I've learned how to be friends with her. kind of.

because it was partly my fault that my relationship with her is and was uncomfortable. I wish I would've said something to her. told her that I didn't like it when she did this. or felt uncomfortable when she did that. and honestly I feel bad. because acting like a friend and secretly disliking them is a lot worse than just telling them outright that you don't really like them. and it wouldn't have gotten to the point where I didn't like her and didn't want to be her friend anymore if I just told her when I felt uncomfortable in certain situations. it wouldn't have piled up.

I wish I would've said something to her. I wish I had the courage to say something to her right now.

so I don't spend any more moments in my life hating the things she does or regretting my decisions about her and so that she doesn't spend any more moments in her life getting disliked by supposedly her best friend.

because the truth is, we both don't deserve that.