I once knew a boy who was my biggest fear and my best friend. It’s funny how things work out that way. You could say we were like a team; we had great fun pulling pranks and doing childish things together. Even now, sometimes, I think about this boy, and wonder why I was so drawn to him. For all of my life I’ve been very adamant on not trusting people easily; I started out shy. I often made my younger brother talk to cashiers and store helpers because I was simply too taciturn to approach them myself.
I remain shy now, but sadly it skyrockets when I’m in the company of people I have never met. Now, I should never have gotten along with this boy; he was everything I wasn’t. He was loud, boisterous, playful, and very immature, and I carried a sort of subdued maturity, for my age, but I hung back dreadfully, afraid that nobody liked me.
I’ve recently come to accept that this wasn’t true. This boy would come to me and pick me over other people; we were perfect comrades. As with many typical childhood platonic relationships, though, we evolved; grade seven heralded our “courting” if you could call it that. Truly, that emotion hardly exists in children as young as we were, but to us it was a game, an enticing bit of an adventure that we, together, could conquer like we did in King of the Hill mere years prior.
And it was then, though I’d been let down before, that I realised that giving is not within the human nature, which is unfortunate; I’ve always been a giver and never much of a taker. This boy and I, we dated off and on, although really it wasn’t true emotion but the promise of a dare that had us going. And I would’ve liked for all that to go on, because eventually I would settle into a rhythm, but it was break up after break up that had me down.
One day it simply occurred to me; being let down was not just a newly discovered concept. I had some great friends prior to ever meeting this boy who both let me down, and even my parents had at least once. It was with this new idea that I noticed that he saw me as nothing but a friend. What changed was that social status became important when we hit junior high. I guess he was pretty much using me to be able to say he was going out with someone.
Since then, the boy has moved away to Rocky Mountain House and probably even further than that, and since then I’ve learned of more reasons to distrust people. Depending on them proves trust wrong. Now that he’s gone I wonder about his well being from time to time, but more I think of how he proved me right; he hasn’t so much as called me to say anything since he left.
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