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A Typical Best Friend Heartbreak
There he is. It’s been four months since I’ve seen him. I had a boyfriend then, but I still felt the same I always have. Reaching out to return his hug, I smile and reference an insider we have. He laughs and walks away to greet someone behind me. A wave of excitement overwhelms me as I realize I’ve finally seen him after so long. I go and sit down on the bleachers. After several minutes, he comes back and runs up the bleachers to sit with me. We catch up on life, kid around, and make fun of stupid people. He is amazing. His gorgeous blue eyes are so charismatic. I’m drawn to them and can’t help myself. I can’t help but laugh at everything he says. After a while, it’s time for his game. He leaves to get changed. I wish him luck and sit back with my recollections.
It’s warm for October. My costume is kind of itchy but I ignore it because I look cute. This was one of the first parties I had really been to. I feel lame actually, an eighth grader at an adult party. Who cares right? I stand silently by the friend that invited me as she talks to two older boys, freshmen in high school. I look around and play on my phone to make it look like I’m doing something. I glance up from time to time to see one of them looking at me. He’s wearing a grey t-shirt with blue jeans. He’s pretty cute. I don’t know why he keeps looking at me though. My friend talks away, just casually with these guys. I wish I could do that. I’m so shy though. They finally leave and my friend and I go inside to clean up.
Tipoff was at 7:30. The home team got the ball first. They dribble down the court and made a layup. The crowd for the home team goes wild; I sit biting my lip in disapproval. With a couple more points added to the board, the home team was starting out good. Finally he makes his own layup, effortlessly, adding the first score to his team. His team trails along for a good while in the first quarter. I sit back and talk to my metaphorical mom. Her son plays for the home team. He and I have literally grown up together so I call her mom and him brother sometimes. I talk to her for a long time, but not about my “brother”. I talk to her about him in the opposing jersey. The sturdy jock guarding the ball from my brother. It works too; the shot doesn’t go in. My “mom” grumbles and turns to another parent from the home team. I sit back and text my friend to give her updates on the game. I remember when he first texted me.
It’s about midnight. We just got in from the party and we are giggling from sleep deprivation. We shed the costumes and finally sit down to watch a movie. After the opening credits, my friend makes a reference to the boy in the grey t-shirt earlier. I nod when she asks if I remember seeing him. She told me that he was wondering who I was and so I immediately got his number and told him. We talked for a little bit; not long at all. The next morning the conversation continued. But again, it was short lived. I didn’t hear from him for a couple months.
Snapping back into reality, I realize that the second quarter is over. Half time rolls around and both teams retreat into their designated locker rooms. The home team’s cheerleaders are about to perform. I don’t particularly care for cheerleaders; they irritate me. But I admit, their performance is actually fun to watch. They are dancing to a popular Christmas song as everyone is in this month of December. Their candy cane socks are moving with their feet. It’s fun! They throw out candy canes to people in the crowd. I get one and with a smile, put it in my pocket. The buzzer rings and both teams come back, pumped and ready to play. They’ve switched sides so now I have to strain my neck to see him make a shot. It’s worth it though; for him, everything is worth it. They were still trailing a little behind the home team. I know how he gets if he loses and it’s not pretty. I usually don’t talk to him for a few days. Flashing backwards again, I zone out of the game.
December has flown by pretty quick. I’m shocked that it’s almost New Years. I have it in my mind that 2010 is going to be a life changing year. While cleaning my room in the early afternoon, my phone dings. Who on earth could that be? I don’t usually get texts during the day like this. I flip open my phone and read the text: “Hey! Long time no talk! How are you?” he wrote. I text back excitedly with a short “Pretty good. And you?” We continue our conversation for several hours. A few days go by and we talk again. Am I really texting a boy?! It gets to the point where some days we don’t talk and others we talk until the small hours of morning. January wears on to February and the texts are still sporadic throughout the weeks. After a while, February blends with March and the conversations are all day every day. Morning. Noon. Night. Midnight. Every single waking moment I am talking to him. I think I like him. I think he might feel the same way.
A ball flies towards me in the stands. I flinch but he has already gotten in between the ball and me and passes it to the other point guard. For some reason his team has two of them; one being him. I regret zoning out of this game for the sole reason of almost getting smacked in the face. I chuckle to myself and watch him barrel down the court and shoot a three pointer. It’s a beautiful shot! A little while later he drains another three. He comes down to the opposite end of the court and waits to guard the ball. Pumped with adrenaline, he smacks the floor and hoots. I laugh hysterically. He is so full of himself. But how could you not be when it’s him? He is almost perfect. I screwed up though. My immaturity cost me the relationship with him that I don’t think I will get back any time soon. Bad memories flood back violently. Kill me.
“He told me you’re only a sister to him. I don’t know why I mean you guys have been talking forever. He led you on! You thought he liked you but…” the muffled, sympathetic tone of my friend punched me in my gut. I feel sick. My head throbs with congestion from crying. Salty tears trickle down my face while my eyes were red with a burning sensation. “I’m so sorry!” she kept saying over and over again. At least she had called to break the news on me. I walk into my room and lay across my bed. Furiously, still sniffling, I break out my phone and text rapidly. My fingers move across the tiny keyboard at scary speeds. I tell him he shouldn’t lead people on. I tell him how I fell for him and how upset I was. All he could do was deny the stories. I disregard him and tell him I believe my friend over him. I’m skeptical though. Because it’s at this moment where he says, “But….I do like you.” Confused, I ignore him. I am mad, hurt, confused but on top of that, I’m happy that he admitted it. But most importantly, I am embarrassed that my secret was out. For four months I kept my secret under control and now he knows every bit of it. I’m also embarrassed that I could look so stupid to my friends and not see that he played me. I keep on ignoring him in my confusion. He sends me page after page of apology texts and they pour into his inner feelings. I erase them before I even finish reading. I’m so confused.
Several weeks pass and a friend and I are hanging out at our local recreation center while waiting for my sister to get out of t-ball practice. Without me knowing, she sends him a text telling him that we are here. He lives right behind the place so it doesn’t take him long to find us. I am very mad at my friend. I didn’t want to talk to him but I did very briefly anyway. I act funny; as though I’m trying to push him away. Eventually we leave and he starts texting me again. Out of annoyance, I still push him away.
A month and a half later, I get a boyfriend. My first actually. My boyfriend is nothing compared to him. I only go out with him because I was desperate. June comes around and my birthday falls. He doesn’t text me “Happy Birthday.” Can’t say that I blame him. The next day, however, he messages me on Facebook and apologizes that he didn’t talk to me. He says his phone messed up and he apologizes over and over again. I assure him that it’s alright and we begin catching up. I gloat about how amazing my boyfriend is to try and make him jealous. He still is happy and normal so I stop. After that night, we don’t talk again for a little while.
I stay with my boyfriend for only three and a half months. He was too jealous and demanding so I broke up with him. While at the beach with a friend of mine, I start texting the real him again. He jokes around, telling me he’s jealous of me being at the beach. We continue our conversations for a long time. I start to get my feelings for him back. Or did I ever really lose them? After a couple weeks of regular talking, I ask if he thought we’d ever become more than friends like in old times. He claims he doesn’t have time for a relationship. I back down and accept this. We don’t talk for about a month.
Throughout the remaining months of the year, I still have this longing for him. It peaks in early December when I, for the first time, watch him play basketball at his school. I try and keep up regular conversations but it just seems that he is very distant and doesn’t feel like talking. On Christmas Eve, he sends me a long, 3 page “Merry Christmas best friend!” text. The only thing that made this text different was a heart at the end of it. My heart pounded and a smile lit across my face. Could this possibly mean what I think it does? I misconstrue the message though. Right before New Years, he tells me that I’m just his best friend. Sadly, I accept this and we don’t talk for a while.
While in the midst of my depressing recollections, I realize that they have gone into overtime. The teams were tied, pumped, and ready to play ball. Unfortunately my mom tells me that we can’t say. We say our goodbyes to the people we sat with on the bleachers. At the door to the gym, I stop and look back at my jock. He’s standing in the huddle with his game face on. Rosy cheeks and beautiful blue eyes are faced towards his coach. I smile, turn around, and walk out of the door.
~ ~ ~
He and I are best friends. I tell him everything, he tells me everything. We are always there for one another. Through good times and bad, I am and always will be there for him. I couldn’t imagine life without him and I tell him this constantly. He feels so insignificant in my life but really, besides God, he is the most important thing. He is everything a girl could ever dream of having. He is so close to perfection that I am in awe every time I see him. Every time he texts me I smile. Every time I think of him I can’t help but picture myself with him. It’s a struggle that I face every day. Though he’s made it clear that I am his best friend, I still keep on fighting for my true feelings. For some reason, they just won’t leave…