Letting Go

Neva - Hot Springs, Arkansas
Entered on October 13, 2008
Age Group: Under 18
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Letting Go

Waking up with puffy eyes and a stuffy nose, I would remember crying myself to sleep the night before. Middle school and junior high are hard enough transitioning from “little kid” to “young adult,” but not having trusted friends make it all the more difficult. Girls are mean and there’s no way around it.

My two “best friends” had been friends with each other longer than I had been friends with them. No one likes to be a third wheel, and that’s exactly what I felt like. “She’s mad at you because you bought the same shirt she was going to buy.” Somehow I managed to never do the right thing, and the lies I got blamed for were ridiculous. Even though I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, I tried to apologize. For two years the constant backstabbing continued.

In junior high, two new girls arrived, and I welcomed them with open arms. I thought I would finally have better friends and feel better about myself. At first, everyone got along great. We had sleepovers, complained about school, and had fun spending time together. The tides soon changed. “Oh she was supposed to call you.” Or “So and so didn’t want you there.” I started getting left out of the sleepovers and learned how words could get twisted and stretched too far. By the end of the ninth grade, I had had enough. I slowly started distancing myself from them and didn’t miss the drama one bit.

I entered high school with a positive outlook on life. I made new friends and never spoke to the girls that caused me pain. I despised them and figured they didn’t really miss me. A few times I got stopped in the hallway, and they asked me why I hadn’t been around. Whether they really wanted me to spend time with them or not, I turned down all offers of getting together. I was finally left alone.

In a sense they won because I hated them for how I had been treated. I realized, though, that holding a grudge was a waste of energy, and I was only hurting myself. They had obviously forgotten about me and gone on with their lives. They probably didn’t, and still don’t, know the pain I went through, not being able to leave them for fear of something nasty being said about me, or having my words twisted and drama started. None of that matters now because I have grown as a person and learned to choose my words wisely. Without them, I wouldn’t have to friends and boyfriend I do today. Plus, none of those girls even speak to one another now.