An ode to a best friend

I never thought I'd miss her so much. Before I start, I wanna say that I blame myself for everything. This will make more sense as the story goes on.
We were inseperable from the time she decided to befriend me when we were 9. She and two other girls came to my first ever birthday sleepover. I got scared for some reason, so I slept in the room with my mom- normal 3rd grade behavior, right? As I can remember, she was the only one who didn't judge me or decide to tell our whole grade about it at lunch the following Monday. She started breaking off plans with other friends she knew longer just to hang out with me. I knew from that point on that no matter what, it'd be us against the world.
We never had a class together after that. But, that didn't stop us from hanging out almost everyday. We walked to school together, chatted during classtime (the bathrooms were open for two classrooms, and she was luckily in the class right next to mine), spent our summers sunbathing and her teaching me how to shave my legs. Bad idea at 10 years old- I still have the scar on my ankle to prove it. In return, I introduced her to Rocky Horror Picture Show. Instead of recoiling in horror at the images on screen (as most people have), she embraced it, and to this day, I know she's out there somewhere doing the Time Warp again.
We went to camp together, learned the Electric Slide, learned how to do back bends and back handsprings, flirted with a cute counselor or two and learned how to play all of our favorite card games (which got us through hours and hours of boredom).
She knew everything wrong with my family, and I knew everything wrong with hers. We never judged- it was her and I against the world.
She was the only person I attempted to try alcohol with. Attempted, because it was straight vodka, which I can distinctly remember tasting exactly like rubbing alcohol, and I don't remember ever swallowing it. That same night though, I remember she secretly bought me a small cake when we were at Publix for my birthday. She always did little gestures like that, and it would make me forget the somewhat esteem-killing things she would say to me.
We would spend holdays together. Bored after opening presents, or wanting to play with each others, we would spend the rest of the day at each other's house, enjoying what was left of the Christmas magic we both loved so much.
At first, we never fought. Then, just as best friends should naturally do, we did. A lot, it seemed, especially through 6th grade. She was reaching the height of her popularity, and I was hiding back in the shadows, still way too immature for my age and not ready to face new people head-on. We rode the bus together almost everyday through high school. We would do the cha-cha slide, sing loudly together, or rest our tired eyes, her head always falling against my shoulder. We were comfortable with each other- who cared who saw us and what they thought? It was her and I against the world.
If we fought, the longest it lasted was a day. We just couldn't avoid each other.
She had always changed her wardrobe- thats what she did. As I recall, she was goth, preppy, sporty, and tomboyish all before 4th grade was over. So no surprise that her wardrobe changed all through middle school and even part of high school (I think to my liking- band t-shirts, Skateboarding and Surfing logos, all of that).
We've had countless sleepovers. More so at my house, but as we reached Freshman and Sophomore year, I was at her house constantly. Usually we'd be together after school; even though I moved, I only lived a street away and it literally took me 3 minutes to get to her backyard from mine. If she ever needed me, I could be there for her. Her and I against the world.
We had similar, yet very different tastes. We never pressured each other to get into the same stuff, though. She loved gory horror flicks (which I later seceded to and was forced to watch at our many sleepovers) and Rob Zombie, and I was happy with My Chemical Romance and Sixteen Candles. We did both develop similarities in movies- mainly dark roles. Cruel Intentions and Jawbreakers she introduced to me; Thirteen and Girl, Interrupted became our movie of choice for freshman year. Still one of my favorite movies.
We first saw Breakfast Club together. I'll never forget that. Randomly switching through the channels one night, we came upon it and couldnt turn it off once it started. We fell in love, and personally, it's still one of my favorites, mainly because I have that memory attached to it.
We first watched Skinemax together. Accidentally, of course. Two 11 year old girls who couldn't sleep- what else would we do? I'll never forget discovering that Kama Sutra was a nasty program, only previously heard mentioned off-handedly in an episode of South Park.
At 10 or 11 (we spent both summers together) we explored sexuality at that young age. I think I did so before I even knew what it was. We would pose in "sexy ways", wearing robes with nothing underneath (but NEVER looking at each other's pre-pubescent messes), and taking fake pictures.
We never practiced kissing or anything that most girls would do at our age- as far as she told me, she did that with other girls. We would occasionally hold hands or link arms in public, as best friends do. She'd forcefully sit on my lap when I was on her computer or really, just sitting in a chair. For some reason, I'll never figure out, I used to let her lay on my back when we would watch a movie. I guess because it was unbelievably comforting, to have someone want to be that close to you all the time. I don't think anyone ever knew that about us. Her and I against the world.
Freshman year. What a shitty year. The best thing it did was bring her and I closer together. We both had bad experiences with our different "cliques"- her on the benches with the preps by the cafeteria, me with the freaks on the belltower. During lunch- ah, I miss those 45 minute lunches- she would find me, and we often ended our long lunch hour resting our heads against each other's, praying the day would end so we could avoid the people who made us miserable. After school times often included scrounging up any loose money we could find, and taking bike rides or walks to the ice cream shop to get our favorite chocolate milkshakes (I think the owner loved us, too- we were his best customers).
She told me she thought she liked girls. I didn't judge her.
She began to party more, as kids usually did in high school. I was an exception. I was depressed, feeling lonely though I wasn't lonely, and didn't like drinking or smoking as everyone else in my class did. I let her go, though, because I always knew she would return safely back to me. Just her and I against the world.
The summer after freshman year was ours. I went to Connecticut for a couple of weeks, came home to my best friend doing her favorite bit- running from around the corner and jumping on me, legs and arms wrapped around me in the most bear-tight hug you could imagine. We'd then spend the rest of the summer eating horrible junk food, learning how to "Sweat to the Oldies", how to bend our bodies in awkward positions (aka- Pilates), swimming, taking walks or bike rides, sleepovers involving us staying up half the night so I could listen to her new boy-filled crazy dilemma, and cuddling up on the couch to watch our favorite movie.
It was 8th or maybe 9th grade. I got a call from her, but refused it because I was watching a movie, figuring she wanted to talk or force me to hang out. She called back several minutes later and I answered to her crying over the phone. She sounded horrible, and I knew she needed me. She asked me to come over, and I spared no second running out that door, through that overgrown lot into her house, which I found trashed and her crying on the floor in the kitchen, a knife in her hand. I carefully took the knife from her, but had no idea how to comfort her at that point (never had to deal with it before, so how would I know what to do?) I sat quietly, staring with large eyes as she slowly stopped crying, then I helped her clean up her house before her dad came home, then I believe I spent a few hours with her. To this day, I can't remember what set her off- I think it was another boy, but I don't want her to sound so shallow. She ran a lot deeper than I anyone else but me would expect.
10th grade was our year. Freshman year had brought us closer together, and we were damn near inseperable. There was almost no day that she wouldn't come to my house after school (I had food in my pantry, after all) and we would either put on a horrible movie (School of Rock, anyone? We had it hard for the drummer) or she would blast the worst ghetto music off of my brother's computer. We went to our first concert together alone. I believe it was called Nintendo Fusion Tour- I was there to see MCR, she was there to see Story of the Year, her favorite band at that precise moment.
She hated my friends, and I hated her friends. It worked out well for us.
If you remember, I blame myself for what happened next. I announced to her we were moving. I was selfish. I never really thought how much of an impact it would have on her. We spent as much time as possible together those last few months (even more than we already had been).
I went to her 16th birthday party. Not much fun- I spent most of it hiding in her room (I barely knew anyone there, but she wanted me present). I bought her condoms as a joke.
We made a pact, which I never told her, but I was proud she kept it- we wouldn't lose our virginities until after we turned 16. She made it I believe to April or May after turning 16, and well...I'm still holding onto it.
I remember the last day vividly- after school, we hung out just like any other day, and when it was time to leave, her dad gave me the biggest hug (I reckon I was his second daughter, and I didn't realize it until only a year ago- I feel as though he silently thanked me for keeping her grounded as well as I did). We hugged for...I don't even remember how long. I just remember waiting until I got into the car before bursting out in sobs and tears, joining Tiffany already broken down in the driveway. That was probably the hardest thing I ever did. Was no longer her and I against the world. "Miss You" and "Sidewalks" became our anthems. People didn't understand, thought it was weird; but it was ours...and it still is.
I became numb in the months following. I'm sure a large part of it was being away from my rock, the only other person who looked after me. I judged her, only thinking back for so long on all of the negative things she said about me (to me, actually), but she really had so many redeeming qualities that made up for it.
I loved that people looked at us from the start and couldn't believe we were friends- we contrasted so much. We used to tell people we were stepsisters, and they bought it for quite a long time. That's how she was coined the nickname as my "Stepsister from Hell" (she was like the little devil on my shoulder fighting against the angel in good and bad moral times).
That summer, she freed me of my numbness by visiting me in Connecticut. I liked introducing her to my new "friends", all of whom really took to her outgoing and chipper personality. She wasn't fargone...yet. Just wait and see.
That summer, she showed me the Xanny bars she learned to do, huffed an entire can of glade air freshener, then met my friend down the street high as a kite (which was an adventure...I had to have her ride me piggy-back just to get her back to my house without falling over in the street). She stole books and shirts for me and her (her new favorite hobby), we took long walks, meeting Mike Jones and Rob for skateboarding and Burger King. She was the first person I ever smoked weed with- well, her and Rob. That night, once Rob left, he called me and we had an amazing conversation until 1 in the morning. After that, I couldn't tell if he was more into Tiffany (as he seemed to be) or me. We watched horror movies, of course, until I was too freaked out and had to go to bed. It was also the first time we both traveled to New York, and I wouldn't have wanted to do it with anyone else. It was her and I against the world once again.
Although I was somewhat disgusted at her new favorite hobbies (huffing, snorting, etc.), she redeemed herself by acting like herself around me (she never acted this way with anyone else- I knew this was the real her) and wrote me an amazing letter the night before she left, which I haven't had the heart to get rid of.
We started talking less, her party life taking over her whole life. We drifted apart, even when I moved back home for that short two months. She would drive me to and from school, for which I was grateful, but we fell apart after the school year ended; like she couldn't be bothered with me anymore. I moved back to Connecticut, she resumed partying and working harder and harder.
The last time we spent any real time together was 2 1/2 years ago. She convinced me to drive up to Gainesville with her so she could register and pay for her classes and find her new apartment. Part of the ride was spent in silence- we were both so exhausted from being up early. Soon though, around lunch and afterwards, it was like we were our old selves again. We laughed about nothing in particular, and joked around about everything. We drove back around 4pm that afternoon, again exhausted, but I was happy to be in her company.
Except when I had the worst sunburn of my life (sun poisoning for two weeks with no trip the hospital...thanks mom), and I was embarrassed by the redness of my upper body, the blisters on my shoulders and upper arms, and the fact I could wear nothing but a tube top (no bra), she still came over and didn't judge me. Just went about, making cookies and watching movies that day.
She's like a different person now. I know people grow and change but...I've never seen someone so out of control. I'm not trying to pride myself when I say the following thing- I think I was the one thing that kept her grounded, kept her from going crazy with the partying, the drugs, the all-night dancing, the random dude-fucking, etc. etc. etc. It's too late for her to turn back now- this is who she is. She's a person completely unrecognizable to me. Yet, I can't forget the fact that we spent 9 years being each other's best friends and I do love her. I wanna think and pray and hope that she's still the same person somewhere deep down inside, that she remembers all of the great things we did together and all of the time we spent looking out for each other, caring for each other, loving each other.
She'll sometimes leave a random comment on Facebook or Myspace, as I will too, about a movie we're watching or a song we hear that will immediately remind us of each other, and that still puts a smile on my face.
The last unbelievable gesture she did for me was only a few short months ago. She went to a Blink 182 Concert and called me from it when the song "Miss You" came on. It was on my voicemail, so when I played it back and heard her voice and the music in the background, a smile just spread across my face and my eyes began tearing up. Again- gestures like that made her to be the most amazing human being in my eyes, despite her open honesty and critique and her bad lifestyle choices. All I can say is one day, I hope we find each other again. If I didn't know she was at least out there, I don't think my mind could function the way it does.
When I see best friend duos nowadays, I can't help but feel partially jealous, because I don't have that anymore. What I need to remember is that at least I DID have it, and it was great. Now that it's gone, I realize it was the best feeling in the world and not even romance could compare to it. In my eyes and mind, it was nice having someone wanting to be close to you and didn't care what you looked like, how big you were, how awkwardly tall you were next to her, while I felt the rest of the world judging me, I always knew she would be there. In my heart, I feel like she always will be, too.