Wednesday, March 30, 2011

That girl

                “He was so mad at me and I tried to tell him that I did nothing wrong.”
                I paused and furrowed my brow, trying to convey the confusion I was experiencing in my own mind on my face, “Um, hon, but you did do something wrong… you cheated on him.”
                She flipped her hair over her shoulder, in the way she’d been mastering since middle school, and looked at me like I was crazy.  “Psh, come on, it totally wasn’t like that.  That dude came onto me and I was just being nice.”
                “So nice that you felt the need to practically swallow his tongue in a roomful of your, and his, closest friends?”
                “You make it sound like I cheated cheated, which I totally didn’t.”
                I turned around and walked away from her.  The questions, “Why am I friends with you?” and “Are you fucking retarded?” ran through my mind in rapid succession, but all I could do was grab both sides of my face with my tensed hands and draw them angrily and roughly down my cheeks.  I had met that point of livid enragement.  I was experiencing what is often known as “seeing red,” and mostly because I considered myself friends with this girl.
                “Why are you so mad, anyway?” she asked as if she didn’t really care what my answer was.
                I whipped around and faced her, finally ready to air every, single reason why my boiling rage had finally met the point of eruption.
                “You honestly have no idea, do you?”
                She raised her eyebrows at me, plastered a look of “Um, what the hell are you talking about?” onto her smug face, and pulled up the side of her mouth into a sarcastic smirk while she shook her head.
                I wanted to scream, right into her face.  I wanted to reach over and smack her so hard that, literally, the idiocy and utter stupidity that resided in between her ears went flying out onto the floor.  I wanted to relieve her, and quite frankly me too, from having to go through this conversation.  So many times I had to suffer her drama secondhand, listening and commenting in understanding tones and murmurs about every, single, little thing.  I was so done that I could barely stand still long enough to get out what I needed to say.  I felt the urge to pace and pull at my own hair and yell obscenities into her dumb, make-up caked face.  But, I sat down on the edge of the futon and put my head between my knees.
                “What the hell is wrong with you,” she said, tone dripping with malicious rancor.
                “You are such a dumb bitch, you literally make my brain hurt.”
                I looked up just as she jerked back, an expression of utter insult and shock registering on her face.  But I wasn’t allowing her to stop me now.
                “But that’s not even the half of it.  You are twenty years old and you’ve never done a single, independent thing for yourself.  Ever.  You expect everyone else to fall at your feet and take care of you or do things for you, and when things don’t go your way, you flip out, as if you’re entitled to the kindheartedness that others bestow upon you, though you do absolutely nothing to actually deserve it.  People fall into your trap of lies and fake nicety, and when they realize how pathetic you truly are, the ones that feel they can brave it out only stick around because they feel bad for you… they are too afraid to leave you be because they know how truly alone and incompetent you are.”  I paused, allowing my lungs to refill with air before I continued.  While I gave myself a nanosecond to think, I realized the harshness of my words.  I started to stop myself, but I understood at that moment that if I didn’t say what I need to say and what she needed to hear, no one would ever get this opportunity to enlighten her ever again.  And I would be stuck in an unhealthy and frankly, slowly dwindling but quickly regrettable friendship for the rest of my life.  I had talked myself out of this for so long and no matter what anyone else said, if I didn’t save myself, for once in my life, I would never be able to forgive myself for not doing her any good.  I honestly didn’t care if I came out looking like the bad guy… that’s what happens when you’re an adult and you take responsibility for things.
                I continued, “You want people to trust you and love you, but all you ever do is walk all over them.  And, and…” I began to raise my voice a bit, “you are such a child.  You want all this responsibility and encouragement but WHAT have you done to deserve it?  Huh?  Not a single, damn thing!  You got pregnant at fifteen, had an abortion, got pregnant at nineteen, decided to keep the kid, got into a relationship with a drug dealer, really hon, a drug dealer, cheated on the father of your child, not once but twice, and now that you’re single, you’d rather get another piercing or tattoo then provide shelter or food for your own child!”
                “My child does have shelter and food –”
                I cut her off, “Yeah that your father, his grandfather provides!  You don’t have a job, but the money you do get, probably as an allowance from your daddy or from whatever illegal activities you don’t think are inappropriate, you don’t spend on the things that are necessary.”
                “But I need to let my hair down sometimes!  I need to act my age and have fun, too!  It can’t always be boring and the hard stuff!”
                I yelled at her, “Are you SERIOUS?!  You lost your freedom and childhood when you gave birth and decided not to give the kid up for adoption!  There’s no more partying, there’s no more childish nights out with the girls, there’s no more time to get high and neglect your duties!  Wake the fuck up and realize that life has hit you full force in the chest and it’s time you step up and act like the adult you want to be treated as.  You are a parent first, and there are no exceptions!  Ever!  Get that into your dumb ass skull!”
                “Stop calling me dumb and stupid!  I’ve managed to keep my child alive and healthy for this long, and not just anyone can do that!”
                “Sweets, haven’t you seen Teen Mom?  Seriously?  You honestly want me to sit here and encourage your absurd pathological tendencies?  Well look elsewhere because I know that that kid, if left entirely in your own care, should’ve be taken to DCS, like yesterday!”
                “What the hell ever!” she retorted back at me, “You have NO idea what you’re talking about!”
                “No, you are deranged.  You have no idea what you’re talking about.  I’m so done with supporting your lies, your stories, pretending that I don’t know when you aren’t telling me the truth, making you feel okay for keeping things from me.  You consider me your best friend, well I’m pretty sure you treat me like shit and I’m also pretty sure you aren’t supposed to treat the people you love and care about like that.  I’m so done with you.  I’m so done with this and I hate that I’ve wasted so much of my life on trying to be there for you.  This is so completely useless.  You’ll never change.  I’ll wake up one day, ten, twenty years down the line, turn on the TV to see you or your child on Maury or Dr. Phil.  You’ll be like that mom that the kid and his friends hate because she is still trying to act like she’s in high school, when really, she’s fifty, wrinkly, disgusting, and pathetic!  Get a clue, would you?”
                I abruptly stood up from the futon and turned to leave.
                “You know,” she practically whispered, “I don’t know why I was ever friends with you either.  All you’ve done is make me feel like crap about myself.  No one else ever does that to me.”
                I stopped and looked over my shoulder.  Part of my wanted to run to her and say I was sorry for being mean, that I didn’t mean it, I was just angry.  But the part of me that eventually won out, it told me that I was being honest with her the first time in our friendship and that I needed away from her like a hunted prey needs a good hiding spot.
                “You know,” I said sarcastically back at her, “I may make you feel like crap, and I may be the only way that makes you feel that way, but I’m also the only one that’s stuck around you for this long.  Haven’t you ever noticed how all your other friends, the ones that always have an excuse to not hang out or never answer your calls… those friends, haven’t you noticed that they all avoid you?  Haven’t you noticed that they disappear quickly after you become so called ‘friends?’  Listen to me, and hear me, if you hear nothing else… I’ve done you a favor today.  I’ve handed a prime opportunity to accept the truth of what I’ve said.  If you choose to do nothing, then you are as stupid, stuck-up, and childish as I’ve always known you to be.  If you heed what I’ve said and maybe make some serious changes in your life, I’ll be looking forward to a big fat thank you in the near future because your life will be a completely new experience for you.  One that you might actually enjoy, and one that everyone might actually want to be a part of with you.”

No comments:

Post a Comment