A Friend

Mirraim-Webster's definition:
1 a : one attached to another by affection or esteem b : Acquaintance
2 a : one that is not hostile b : one that is of the same nation, party, or group
3 : one that favors or promotes something (as a charity)
4 : a favored companion


When I was a child I longed for one. Desperately. I only had a few cousins in Mexico when I lived there. My mom and my dad weren't really "together" then, so I didn't really talk to anyone in my dad's side of the family and everyone in my mom's side was FAR older than I was. When I started going to school I made some friends. It was one of the happiest moments for me. Unfortunately it was short lived. I moved within a year to Brownsville, Texas with my mom and dad. I managed to only make one friend. Andres, he was my neighbor. Something was off about him. I always knew. He was always out of his house. He always seemed angry or bent on destroying things. One time stoned his little brother just for fun. He pressured me into helping him do it. I still remember his little brother crying. But that was the only friend I had. I remember having lots of toys that my dad would get me. But I was still bored. I had no one to play with. When I first heard that some kids had imaginary friends, I became quite upset and jealous. I had envy of those who could imagine a companion. I had no such luck. But we were only there for about a year and a half anyway. I then moved to Green Lake, Wisconsin. I loved it there. People may not have necessarily liked me, but everyone talked to me. I was foreign. I was different. Most people had never met a Mexican before. But I quickly made friends with one person. A girl. We had the best times. Me, her, and her cousin. That was the first time I had ever spent the night over at a friend's house. I thought we would be friends forever. I moved a year after that. It was now, fourth grade and I had managed to feel relatively friendless for most of my life. By the time I'd manage to make friends, I had already started to leave. I only stayed in Minnesotta for one semester, though. But I still managed to make some really good friends. People I'll never see again. My parents had gotten a divorce. My mom decided to move back to Wisconsin, but in a different town. Terry was the friend I made there. Alot of people made fun of him, for whatever reason. I think I was his only friend at the time. I often figured that was why he was such a jerk to me at times. I figured that's why he made fun of me. I have never fought in my life. He was the only person that I ever came close to fighting. He had said something or done something that hurt me. I finally stood up for myself, and he asked if I wanted to fight. My fists clenched. My body temperature rose. Tears swelled up in my eyes. And I decided against it. I didn't want to lose him as a friend. He laughed. "That's what I thought." he said. I cried when I got home that day. I didn't understand. That was fifth grade. When we all transitioned to middle school, I lost any semblence of friends. All the guys began to become guys. They did their sports thing, which never really interested me. Their competitive edge agitated me. Girls became girls, and began to whisper to one another as guys would walk by. They'd giggle at things no one knew about and did all the things pre-pubecent girls do. I fit into neither one of these groups. So, I became the loner. I didn't mind, though. I felt like I was finally getting some general perspective of what it was like to have a "home". I loved it there. Even if I was alone. But my mom gave me some disturbing news. We were moving down to Texas in December. I didn't understand. She said that my cousins where there and that everything would just be better. I fought against it, but there wasn't much more I could do. After that first half of six grade, I moved down to Fort Worth, Texas, the land of misery. I hated it here. Everything was so much bigger and uglier. There were so called "Mexicans", which often made me feel upset about what kind of examples they were giving Americans that true Mexicans were. There were no trees ANYWHERE. It didn't feel like it to me, anyway. There was no fresh air. Dust and dirt seemed to be what grass really was. There was also division. I had never seen this kind of division. People would stay near their "own kind" and never get involved in what was going on with others. Everyone seemed so much more selfish, too. No one cared. Everyone was rude. When I went to school I was stunned. Kids would talk back to their teachers. Kids would do drugs. Kids would drink. Kids would have sex. It was as if I had stumbled into Babylon. There were bomb threats at my school. It would have been frightening had I cared. I was upset. I didn't want to be there. My cousins were the brattiest children ever. Everything was just WRONG. I got tired of people thinking was the nice kid, the goofy kid and I figured I'd probably move again within another year, so why not do something different? Something new. So, I pretended I was a jerk, a bully. I'd make mean jokes about everyone, to their face. I'd push people around, trip them, you name it. And what was weird... People liked it. No. People loved it. I had never had so many guys try to be my friend. I had never had so much respect. But it was all still relatively fake in the end. I still came home to an empty apartment. My mom worked alot. She always had ever since the divorce. But right before my sixth grade year was over, I picked on someone different. His name was Chris. I had managed to pick on him like there was no tomorrow... but he would still talk to me. Really talk. He would still hang out with me. I met his twin and his sister later on. And I hit it off with them, too. I was still a jerk for whatever reason, though. I even began to pick on his twin as well. I guess I figured I'd honestly never see them again. But life is funny like that. It turned out that they lived in the same apartment complex. I stopped picking on them and we became friends. Later on, Mandy, the sister, would tell me that she really didn't like me because I picked on her brothers, but that she still couldn't help but laugh at how I picked on them. But they moved right at the beginning of seventh grade. They moved to a different part of town and a new school. However, things still changed. We kept up the friendship. They would become the first true close friends I had ever had. For years. Well, mostly... But that's another story. When they moved, people had noticed I'd lost my mean streak, but they didn't pick on me or do the things alot of the other kids had done in some of my previous schools, not really, anyways. And I began to make friends. Lots of them. It seemed to be the oddest thing. But I loved it. I had never had this many friends. Or even thought I could. They were from all different groups and cliques. And I loved them all and they all loved me. I was free. I was happy. I finally had what I seemed to have longed for all my life. But along with those friends came a few that changed my life. There was this girl and her friend. They became close to me. They shared some secrets and I shared all of mine. They told all their friends, to where everyone knew. They would laugh at me regularly. They began to hit me. And I let them. I let them do everything, because they were my FRIENDS. One day I snapped and asked her why she treated me that way. She told me it was because I let her. She said that I was the one at fault. She said I need to stand up for myself. She told me that I needed to get rid of these fancy notions of being a gentleman or being noble. She said that if a girl hits you, it's okay to hit back. I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to agree. But time has a way of changing things... By the end of my eighth grade I had quite a few close friends. People I loved. People who seemed to need me. I had stopped being friends with that girl and her friend, though. They had caused me lots of pain. They used me in so many ways, I've lost track. But I was glad, because high school was coming up. The time to grow and trully become who you were meant to become, with your friends at your side. I had finally put down some roots here, too. I had never been in a place that long. Almost three years. I went to go visit my dad that summer. While I was there my mom let me know that we were moving to a house. A house in a different area of Fort Worth. Not to far, but far enough to where I was going to a different high school. When I came back to Fort Worth, my mom had already moved us in. I was upset. Shocked. I couldn't believe my mom would do that. Out of everyone, she should have been the one to understand. I begged and pleaded for what seemed like forever, to go to the high school I intended on going to. She said that if I was so intent on going there that I would have to go sign myself up. That I would have to walk to that school and walk back. I couldn't believe she was telling me this. Not my mom. Not her. So, I gave in. Not because of any other reason other than because of how much I loved my mom. My whole freshman year is a blur. I became a recluse. I wanted nothing to do with anyone. I hated the kids there. They all seemed so happy and content. It was like going to some private school. There didn't seem to be much diversity either. It disturbed me. During that year I lost alot of the friends that I had made in middle school. It's just what happens. And I knew it would. You can't go to different high schools and expect to keep track of ALL your friends. And if you don't grow together, there's always a big chance of growing apart. So, I became bitter and upset. The only friends I still had were the twins and their older sister. But they didn't attend my school and didn't live near me. It wasn't until my sophomore that I decided to make friends again. Some stuff had gone on during the summer before and I was looking for ANYTHING to take me away from that. And I found something. Theatre. I'd love to say that I made all these friends there that have been my friends all the way until now, but unfortunately, that's began to change too. And I hate life for it. And I hate myself for it. And I hate them for it. I had began to return to my old self. My old goofy, nice self. And some people loved me for it.

But now I'm here. In a completely different place. All of this doesn't just seem like a long time ago. It seems like a whole lifetime ago. And I mean that in the most literal sense. I don't feel that was my life. I'm not that same person anymore. There still parts of me, but I'm not the same. At all.

I feel as if I've far outgrown all my friends and nearly just about anyone my age. I relate far more to people near their thirties than people in their early twenties. And it sucks. But it's just how it is.

Through what I've gone through I've learned alot and changed alot. I no longer concern myself with things like fun, experiencing life, or even friends. I love all of these things for they are wonderful pleasures of life, but they aren't my concern. Not my main concern.

My mom is dying.

That isn't a WILL die, that's not a MAY die. That is, she is currently dying. Slowly. Ever so slowly. But she has been. I'm the only one that ever really sees it, but I've seen it since day one. I feel that I know my mother the way ALOT of other people may not. Sometimes I feel I know her better than her own family knows her. She's changed, too, you see. She's gone through alot, herself.
But I'm the only here. I've BEEN the only one here. It's on my shoulders more than on anyone else's, including my fathers.
And sometimes I think no one gets that...

So, if I had to decide between making my mom more comfortable and relaxed or me going out and having fun, my mom comes first.


Apart from this, I'm a youth leader.

I am NOT a clergy men. I'm NOT a baby sitter. I am some of these kid's only hope. I am the only they have to come to sometimes. They call me for help with some of the most insane and difficult problems sometimes. And just me. Often they swear me to secrecy. There is no one else for them to go to.
I'm also the only one who organizes anything. No one else in the church does ANYTHING for these kids. No one else. So, I do EVERYTHING. Often from my own pocket. But I don't care, because I love these kids way too much.

Apart from all of this I HAVE TO keep my life on track.

I have to go to college. For me. For my mom. For my youth. I have to work. I have to do everything else a normal twenty year old does. And manage to balance them all.

I've often wished that I could just drop it all. All of it. My mom, my youth, my life. Just run away. Because it's so much. So fucking much. I've wanted to have that normal life. I've wanted to have a moment to relax. Moments to go have fun. Moments to NOT be thinking about all I need to do. I've wanted to just be FREE.

But I'm not. And I don't honestly want to be.

Because I see the need.

Not only in those around me, but EVERYWHERE.

So, if I have to sacrifice myself, I will. And I'll love every minute of it, despite all the pain and heartache.






So, when those who call me "friend" begin to question me. Begin to insult me. Even begin to demand for what they feel is justly theirs. I WILL be upset. I DO get upset. And I feel no need to explain myself. I feel no need to argue. I feel no need to do anything other than what I NEED to do.

I don't have the luxury of being "free".

I've never asked for anything more than understanding.

I love them. Desperately. All of them. This isn't about just one person.

But the truth is I have some serious business to attend and the free time that I DO have I want to spend relaxing with friends. Friends who are attached by affection and esteem each other for what they do. Friends who aren't hostile.







P.S. If you honestly still knew me, you would know how I'm no where near a Hufflepuff, apart from many other things that you still don't seem to either believe, accept, or want to understand about me.

Wow!
wow.. you had a lot to say there. You know, I had the same feelings about one of my friendships that just went bad. I mean there is more to me than just what is on the outside. I just feel that everyone has their short commings. If you really want to know someone you confront them on their differences and try to work it out. If you just dont care or dont bother to understand than it is YOUR loss.... Know what I mean? I feel I am a good person and can be a good friend... but I make mistakes too.
» KKama67 on 2007-07-30 04:32:15

Well that was quite the long post. Friends are strange and i'd say thats because friends (well most of them) are people and people are strange. But so is life. I've lost a few really good friends. Some needed to go and some didnt but all of them still make me kinda sad. I'm sorry about your mom. I know you probbly hear that alot and some random internet girl saying it may not mean much but I do mean it from the bottom of my heart. My mom is my best friend and I hope she outlives me bc I dont think I am capable of losing her. I thought I was going to once when I was 14 and I ended up in a mental hospital. Sometimes life does seem like its piling up one thing on top of the next and it seems like it's never going to stop but you have to keep going bc really what other option do you have? Also you should listen to the promise by tracy chapman. Its my song for alot of friends who seem to be trailing off in the distance and ones whove been gone for a long time.
» lyndeep on 2007-08-06 05:58:40

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