"Do you remember when we were friends with her?"
Yes I do remember, actually. I do remember when I was friends with her. I remember when I met her on the morning bus on the first day of school. I remember when I introduced myself to her and her sister, and we sat together for the rest of the year. I remember when we discovered that we had the same lunch period, and I invited her to sit with us, ignoring the objection from you and the others. I remember when we walked over to the table and I told her she could sit with us even though everyone else publicly objected. I remember when I sat down with her and everyone got up and left. I remember being alienated from my lunch table because I wanted her to sit with us. I could see the judgment in your eyes. She dresses differently. She obviously doesn't have as much money as us. She's not as good as us. I remember going to her house to get ready for the Christmas dance: doing our hair and makeup, and eating dinner with her parents. I remember having fun with her. I also remember growing apart. I remember myself avoiding her, slowly, throughout the year and the next one because I was self conscious. Regrets.
But, yes, I remember when I was friends with her. I don't remember when you were, though, sorry.
It's sad to say that although your tendencies are shown less, you have not changed at all.
1 comment:
Hello Fellow Figmenter!
I'm writing to you to make a request. I have a story, The Wasted-Pointless War, that I would really like some more reads on. I'm NOT asking for free hearts, I'm not even asking that you read all six minutes of it. What I ask, what I BEG, is just that you check it out, read a few lines. What you do from there is up to you! I also like writing critical, but helpful, reviews, so if you want any just ask. And you DON'T have to read my story, either. Thanks so much for your time!
P.S. - It's nice to have good friends, but they can be hard to find, no?
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