Press Play and Read

Day 16: A Song That You Used to Love but Now Hate

Day 16: A Song That You Used to Love but Now Hate

"You Belong with Me" by Taylor Swift

Oh, I remember you driving to my house
In the middle of the night.
I’m the one who makes you laugh
When you know you’re ‘bout cry.
I know your favorite songs,
And you tell me about your dreams
Can’t you see
That I’m the one
Who understands you?

“H-he said h-he l-loved me!” my best friend blubbers into my shoulder.

A Nicholas Sparks movie is playing in the background and tubs of ice cream rest in our—well, more like her—lap.  I sigh as I rub her back, wondering how after dating for only a week two people can be “in love”.

“He’s just not the one,” I tell her for the umpteenth time.  I swear I’ve said to her more than anything else in the time that we’ve been friends.

“A-and now h-he’s dating that—“

“Shh…”  I smooth Sidney’s hair down.  Finally she falls asleep and I realize it’s going to be another pity-party sleepover.

Great.

I gently slip a pillow underneath her head before shutting off the movie and cleaning up the coffee table.  It’s littered with all the regular foods you eat to get through a break-up: chocolate, ice cream, candy bars, the works.

Mom gives me a look as I enter the kitchen with my arms full of wrappers and dirty dishes.  “How long is this going to go on?”

“What are you talking about?” I ask as I throw away the trash and place the dishes in the sink.  I turn on the faucet and begin filling up the sink with warm, soapy water before heading back to the living room to grab the cartons of ice cream.

Although I already know what she’s talking about.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know, Victoria.  I’m not as dumb as you teenagers make us adults out to be.

“I don’t think you’re stupid!” I argue as I reenter the kitchen and put the ice cream in the freezer.

“Don’t chance the subject.”

I walk over to the sink and shut off the faucet.  Plunging my hands into the hot water, I begin washing the ice cream bowls.  “I’m not, I’m just saying that I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Victoria, when are you going to admit that Sidney’s just using you?”

I keep my eyes trained on the dishes I’m washing.  “She’s not using me.  I’m just helping her through a tough time.  Her boyfriend just broke up with her today and she needed a shoulder to cry on.”

“Victoria, turn around when you’re talking to me!  That girl is a bad friend and a bad influence—“

“Who else is going to put up with her?” I ask harshly, turning around.  Water droplets drip unto the floor but I couldn’t care less.

“Excuse me?”

“Who else is going to put up with her?  I’m her only friend.”  I grab a dishtowel to dry my hands.

“So you think it’s an obligation?”

“No!”

“You said so yourself that you’re her only friend.  If she wants to be friends with people she needs to realize that friendships aren’t just taking.  She has to give back into the relationship.”

“This isn’t a romantic relationship, Mom!” I exclaim.

“The same thing applies to both,” she replies, leaning against the kitchen counter and holding her arms across her chest.  “I don’t want you hanging out with her anymore.”

“What do you want me to do?  Wake her up now and tell her, ‘Oh, sorry.  My mom doesn’t like you and wants you out of her house.  And by the way, I can’t be your friend’?  I’m not going to do that!”

“Make me the bad guy.  Blame it on me.  You haven’t been yourself ever since she walked into your life.  You seem more withdrawn from the world.”

I can’t argue with her on that point.  “Fine.  Just give me time to talk to her.”

“And then he walks up to me and asks me to take him back.  Puh-lease.  There’s no way I’m going to take that heartbreaking jerk back!” Sidney exclaims at lunch the following week.

I munch on an apple while debating whether to break the news to her or not.

I take the plunge.

“My mom doesn’t like you,” I announce, interrupting Sidney’s rant.

It takes a moment for the statement to sink in.  “What?!”

I sigh, looking down at the half-eaten apple in my hand.  “My mom doesn’t like you and she says I can’t be friends with you.  I want to be friends with you, but I don’t want to wreck my relationship with my mom.”

“Just tell your mom we aren’t friends and I won’t come over to your house anymore,” Sidney suggests.

I look up, confused that she’s not mad.  “What?”

“Just lie to your mom.  It’s no big deal.  I do it all the time.”

I begin to shake my head slowly, realizing how wrong I was and how right my mom is.  “No.  I’m not going to.”  I begin grabbing my things.

“Where are you going?”

“To class.”

“But the bell hasn’t rang yet.”

“My mom was right,” I tell her while standing up and shouldering my bag.  “You really are a bad influence and not a good friend.”

“What did you just say to me?!”  Sidney stands up and puts her hands on her hips.

Thankfully we’re in a somewhat secluded spot so if we cause a scene no on will see it.  “I said, you’re not a good friend.”

“Not a good friend?!  Do you know how many times I’ve had your back?!”

“None,” I answer somewhat calmly, which surprises me.  “But I’ve always been there during your countless breakups.  While you were crying on my shoulder, claiming to be in love with him, I always wondered after a two week relationship two people could be so madly in love as you claimed to be. I’ve always been your therapist, never your friend.  Friends don’t do that.  Friends actually care about one another and ask each other how life’s going, not always looking for temporary comfort from their friend therapist.  I’ve cared for you.  I’ve considered you my sister.  But what do I get?  Nothing that’s worth being your friend.”  I readjust my bag.  “Sidney, I hope you think long and hard the next time you go asking for a shoulder to cry on.”  I turn to go.  “Oh, and by the way, don’t come knocking on my door.”