My Long-Term Friend

Alicia - Chandler, Arizona
Entered on October 16, 2008

It isn’t everyday that you make a best friend, or a friend at all. Just because you talk to someone everyday, it doesn’t mean that person is your friend. Just because you call them your friend, it doesn’t make your friendship have more value. You can disagree with me, but it all depends on your definition of a friend.

Before I grew wise in the friendship department, I would have told you I have had a handful of best friends growing up. Too naïve to realize myself that the title doesn’t make the friendship, but the value of the friendship itself will sooner or later earn the title.

While still in my “popular days” –at least what I thought was popularity –I was basically abused by my so-called friends. Yes they were fun to hang out with, but not so much that it was worth getting in trouble for. They would cheat off my homework, which I thought was just helping them out. They were always getting in trouble with fighting, getting smart, or sometimes both. Some of them smoked, some were pregnant, and a bunch of other non-sense. I’m sure you’ve realized that the people you hang around have an affect on your actions. Well, I knew the things they were doing were wrong, but I didn’t think it would have an affect me; after all that was them, not me. Once again I had failed to realize the obvious; they were using me. Although maybe one or two of them I can still call my friend today. That’s when I knew it was time for a change.

As I started my freshmen year, here at Hamilton, there was a girl in my class named Jasmine. We were kind of friends in the beginning, but not so much. Then she invited me to go to the mall with her on her birthday. After that we hung out almost every weekend. Our moms started being friends, and we came to the point that we would meet up on Friday afternoons, and not leave each other until Sunday nights. Unfortunately, two months later she found out she was moving to Texas.

I thought it was going to kill both of us. Our friendship had brought us to the point that we were practically sisters. When she left, we talked on the phone almost every day. After a while, it wasn’t as often, but we still kept in touch. We still called each other when we had problems; we still called each other when there was a new boy involved, or if there was drama. We went over a year without seeing each other, but we still stayed strong. She came down here for my sixteenth birthday, and I visited her the following summer in Texas. The reunion only brought us closer together, and reminded us how close we were. We were reminded how others come, but we couldn’t replace each other.

Ten miles away, or ten hundred miles away, we have, and always will be friends. She may not always be there physically, but she is mentally. I know I can go to her when ever I need her; I can trust her. Her actions proving she is my friend, speak louder and clearer than her saying she is my friend. This I believe is the true definition of a friend.