Fragments of Friendships

They're memories of you. All of you. Sometimes I don't open the drawer for months. Other times I take them out five times in a single day. Pulling these close to my heart, brushing them with my lips. Clenching them in my fists or throwing them back and slamming the drawer.

Random pieces. I like life a little better when I forget they exist.

A homemade necklace. A charm that says “friends.” Yours said “forever,” of course. We were twelve and we knew it. This one is a broken heart. That's not what it meant at the time.

I hold it now and it remember the confusion of torn families I only observed. Whispers over the phone. And you disappearing one week without a goodbye. The strong decision your Mom needed to make. I still see your Dad sometimes. I'm glad you're free, and I trust you grew into a woman that would make your Mom proud. Confirm she made the right decision. I know more, now. Things I wasn't ready to understand when I was twelve. Things you probably weren't either, but had to. I'm sorry. I wish my two letters could've said more then that I missed you.

Where are you now? I don't know. I guess I never will. I searched your name on Facebook, but it's probably not what it was.  I still have that piece of pressed metal that says “friends.” That's what I'll remember you as.

A sand dollar. I was sixteen now, walking with you down an abandoned Mexican beach. I was so proud to call you my best friend. So sure you were cool, you convinced me that athletic teenage girls like us looked good in over sized t-shirts. We would wrestle, and I would win. I believe that you thought it would last forever. I trusted you.

At nineteen we lost touch, but I still have that sand dollar. I wrote letters, e-mails. I poured my heart out and scribbled in my notebook. Life did get in the way. Such different paths, you and I. We share the most important now, but it's not enough.

I'm sorry. I try to hard.

A pair of drumsticks. They say you'll love me forever. I almost believed that, too. Luckily I was jaded enough to question it all.

I know I held you at arms length for longer then you thought possible. But you were my best friend. A misjudgment, but I wish that part could have been true. I cried with you well you held me. I cried when I left. I stuck by you until I couldn't any more. It was too long, yet far too short.  How you could blindly cut me like that, I'll never know.

These drumsticks will never tell.

And you. You haunt my life more then any other with these reminders. We shared our childhood, our struggles and, finally, my home. Others came and went, but you were like my sister. My sister with communication skills that would never match mine. Is that where we went wrong? This crumpled stack of notes, letters, ramblings? This giant paper clip, teddy bear and a heart. How unlike us, then. You and I with our hitch hiking, our first time swearing, our baggy jeans. The times we shunned each other and our mutual respect.

And this last letter. The one where you asked me not to reply. The one I'll never understand.

I'm closing the drawer for now.  I've learned that others will be added, despite my greatest efforts and my learned reservations. I regret that it's still so damn worth it.

(photo source: Barcarola)

Rachelle

We have a history.  I think that's worth something.

I know you never liked me that first summer.  I was fifteen and obnoxious.  You were sixteen and insecure.  A good mix, I know.  We slept in that tent, rode in the back of pick-ups, napped in the afternoon sun.  We listened to a lot of Rebecca St. James.  I was on the right, you were in the middle, the glue was over there on the left.  We were a trio, so obviously meant to be thrown together.  Funny how we were opposites despite the circumstances

I never understood.  I was young.  Of course I knew everything.  I want you to know I still cared.

You've gone a little skate punk and stayed a little preppy.  I've gone a little hippi and stayed a little tomboy.  Are we a study in contrasts?  Still each on those opposing and identical journeys to figure out where we fit.

I remember working it out.  What we couldn't do face to face we said over e-mail.  Yeah, you were in Virginia and love, with so much discovery left.  I remember crying to you on my couch as I told you part of my past.  I never knew why I showed you that hidden vulnerable side of myself.

Boys, travel, school.  We've both grown through a lot.  You've become a beautiful woman.  Much different then anyone thought.  An artist, athlete, thinker and adventuress.

We've never been best friends.  I know we never will be.  I just want to thank-you for the effort.  The fact that, after it all, we can still sleep in a tent.  Maybe I'll be on the right and you'll be in the middle.  We can talk about how it doesn't make sense.  We listen to that mix c.d. and drive with the windows down.  You've taught me a lot with your searing honesty and occasional disdain.  Things your patience and frustration needed me to know.  I hope I've been a little bit worth it.

Photo source: Janne-landet on Deviant Art

Because I Like People

Dear Readers.

Did you think this was a real post?  It's not really, but please stick around anyway!  I think you're awesome for being here in the first place!  I have sixty followers now, not to mention subscribers, general lurkers, ect.  I think you're all great. Every single one of you has brightened my day by visiting, and liking my little blog.  I love that you comment, but I haven't managed to keep up with all of you.  I want to hear more!  Write my lame blogger address summercherry18@hotmail.com.  If you want to criticize productively, that's awesome.  Do you think my blog should stick more with a general theme?  Or send me your twitter, blog, whatever.  Just put something about blogging in the topic.

As we all know, there are some pretty awesome people out there.  I've been privileged to meet a few of them since I started Because or Why Not back in April.  We also know we can't do it alone.

I've linked Mel from Mel Learns Her Lesson a few times, but I haven't actually told you to go read it.  Which you certainly should do.  She's a lovely Aussie chick who is witty, concise, and is almost guaranteed to make every post worth your while.  If Internet adventures are possible, Mel is my one of my favourite people to have them with.  She created the banner you see up here on my blog.  She's good like that!  And, look, she gave me this.

Now, her and I travel in the same blogger circles (ie 20sb chat), so she's already awarded it to most of my really good blogger friends (you know who you are.  I love you guys, too!).  I just want to add a a few more.

Alex from IceWolf's Ramblings.  Essentially one of my first online blogger friends, Alex is straight-forward, always calm, and will bring you thoughtful ramblings on his life of theatre, photography, and the outdoors.  What's not to like?

Tall Brunette from The Northwest Girl.  I've actually only chatted with this girl a few times.  But I want to link her blog because a) She's cool and from Portland and b) her last post is searing.  I'm serious.  Read it for that reason if no other.

Jeffrey from The Far Too Important Blog.  Jeff is intelligent, and will make you smile. If you scan his posts you'll find the really good ones.

Kisekae from Diary of a Doll.  She is a doll.  Just look at her!  And she's also from my home province. So it goes without saying that she's pretty awesome.

Sorry if I've gone overboard.  I couldn't help it, it was hard to stop here!  You're computer is faster then mine.  So you can visit those all.  Don't forget to come be my friend, as well.  I'll bring you a real post tomorrow.  Lot's of blog love!