Seventh

It's been a while. I've been busy, I think.
Today I went to my old best friend's baby shower. That's right. BABY shower. I am only 20, and this friend is the same age as me. It was a disaster, and made me pretty miserable. There were people there that I intentionally avoided and disliked, and they all buddied up with me as I followed my mom around like a lost puppy, tail down. I got no recognition for showing up from my friend until I forced my way into her secluding group of friends, and only then so my mom could get a hug. My mom loved her like a daughter.

Here I thought I used to be someone important in her life, worthy of at least a five minute conversation and maybe even an invitation to sit down by her, but I was flat out ignored by her for the majority of the time my mother and I were there. Not only that, but she ignored my mom too, which hurt my heart so bad. My mom went so far out of her way to do something nice for this friend, to get her good presents and to show up at her party, and she was ignored. My mom deserved more than that. We left after being there an hour, and I wanted to leave after being there five minutes. The food sucked, people were off in cliques, and I either disliked or didn't know everyone around me.

My bubbly, hyper self was gone today. I was this somber, serious, depressed creature who was angry beyond belief. I understand we're not close like we once were, but both my mother and I deserved a little bit of credit for going.

We became best friends in sixth grade. I was drifting from my shy friends and trying to be more outgoing, and here was this absolutely beautiful girl who was funny and enjoyed my company. I was never very sure of myself when I was younger, and having someone so pretty around made me feel better about myself. I was the fat, ugly friend, but at least I was smarter.

She had problems. Her dad was a douche and her step-mom a bitch, and here I was--the perfect friend; a goody two shoes who never did anything wrong--and they hated me. They hated me; they hated my family. All because we loved this friend of mine. I would walk blocks and blocks out of my way to walk her home to her grandma's and spend more time with her, talking and laughing, since her grandma accepted me sometimes. I did not deserve that hate. She ran away multiple times, but always to some other friend, never to me and my family, even though we loved her as our own and would have tried to help her. She got mixed up with the wrong group of people, the deadbeats, and I wasn't going to follow her there.

We were close throughout junior high, but then high school came. It wasn't a big change to me, being in the same building and around the same people, but to her something changed. Maybe because I was in all those stupid advanced classes and was never around her and the only people she could spend time with were those idiotic, stupid deadbeats, she chose them instead. She drifted, and I chased after her, but she never tried to catch me. I let her go and I found new friends, my parents always giving me shit that I let her go, but I don't fight on a one way street.

She moved, and we lost major touch for a while. We tried to reconnect last year, but it failed--we are just two too different people these days. Our friendship was in a past life for each of us, being almost ten years ago. I know I have changed since then greatly, and so has she. She's married, pregnant, and having a baby boy. She barely graduated and smokes cigarettes. I'm struggling through post secondary school, madly in love but not ready for marriage, let alone children. She always did like kids, I suppose.

Everyone around me is having babies, and my sister wants to have one so badly she isn't going to renew her birth control come august. She still lives at home--which is a disaster area and no place for a baby, has no real job, is extremely unhealthy, is not married, is only 23, and has no insurance. Sounds like a grand idea to have a baby, sis. Get your own shit in order before you bring more shit into this world.

People are idiots.

Eleven more days, and I will be gone. No more worrying about bankruptcy or losing the house or school or stupid friends. Just me and my boy and our house and the kind of happiness I only get when I am in his arms.