Golden Ropes Bound in Diamond

I used to think that friendship didn’t matter. I could do anything fine by myself, and sometimes even better that way. If I had all the gear already contained in me, what was the use in including more people? The more the merrier. That was one quote I didn’t understand. Power in numbers. Another one. I didn’t care about having friends, and most times, if people tried to invite me in their group and talk, I did my best to dispatch myself. At the playground stood trees, and under them lay logs. And hidden in the cool shade sat me. Always, during recess, that would be my little plot of land where I drew in the mud or leaned against the trees to read. Or some other times, I would close my eyes, relax, and unclench tight muscles. I could feel the wind blowing my hair around me in a halo, and, ever so softly, mingled in with the delicate rustling of leaves, whisper stories of adventure, heroism, morality, and betrayal until the whistle shattered my thoughts and broke my peace. If I had any want for companionship in me, I achieved it from my books, because I was a voracious reader, but mostly my imagination. Unbeknownst to my parents, I would stay up late into the night, past twelve, unwinding tales and tales, and whisper them to my dolls. My voice would rise in excitement at climaxes, lower into a deathly quiet at heart breaking moments, and trail off in a satisfied way if I wound one tale up. I still do that, except now I try to write it down. In fantasy books or novels, I read of friendship, loyalty, and trust in others. I could appreciate those concepts as elements of a work of fiction, but I didn’t understand how it applied to the real world. I once read a nonfiction book on Albert Einstein. Or it might have been Thomas Edison. It told that they were as children, outcasts. From that, I deduced that you didn’t have to be outgoing to become a success later in life. With that in mind, I never made an effort to make a friend.
But fifth grade rolled along. It was like a whole new start to my life for me. It was like a train that came into the station, and something I boarded only because I had to. I went in and sat down, oblivious to what I was riding into head first. Something during the summer had opened my eyes and suddenly I could see and feel emotions and classmates in a way I’d never seen them before. In the classroom I went, and out I came dazed. I saw people and I wanted to talk to them. I chatted lightly with them and suddenly wondered if I was looking okay, something I never would have cared about before. I saw the popular girl and wanted to be like her. I could see people. And I could feel self-conscious. I went home and realized I couldn’t be alone anymore. No, I wouldn’t. I had to quit my territory by the logs and talk to people. That night I planned my own clothes to wear the next day for the first time. It took a while for the others to realize I didn’t want to be an outcast anymore, but as soon as they got over that, they were more than welcome to have me join their circles. It wasn’t smooth, but it worked out. I got myself into the very inside, and I learned what it was like to have one friend, two, three, and to be wanted as a friend. I learned how to place my trust in others. I learned how to lend a shoulder when my friend was hurt, and I learned how to apply those comforting words I learned from books. I learned which words and phrases injured a person’s heart, and which ones healed. I learned how to welcome the new kid and not just watch them from afar and feel bad. Feeling bad doesn’t make a difference for them, doing something does. I learned how to analyze a friend’s personalities, and I learned how to be what a friend wants you to be. I learned how to copy a personality I admired, because sometimes, my own is lacking. I learned how to attach myself with kind and good-hearted people. And in return, my friends granted me with the sweetest memories of my life. The cool spring day we sat on the fence, having a good laugh, and licking ice cream. The iciness would spread through my mouth and seem to lower my body temperature. My friend actually dropped her cone, and somehow it slid neatly into the sewer. We stared at it in shock for a moment, the laughter frozen on our lips, but the next we were all laughing again. The sleepover when we whispered secrets to each other, giggling over “someone likes someone”. The time we were yelling cheerfully at each other as we biked down Christy Lane, a hill near our school. At speeds that would make our moms pale with fear, we would streak down, the wind blowing my hair into a halo once again. But this time, it wasn’t the wind whispering in my ear. It was my friend.
It took me six years, but I understand now. I understand that a friend can be the most important person in your life, and sometimes they can matter more than family. A friend is who you can look up to, someone you can fix your own mistakes with, someone you can share secrets with, the very person you become, and someone you can rely on. I realize now that life is insipid without friends. Friends are what I am practically made up of. Friends are my life blood, and I love going to school just to see their faces and talk with them. So you can imagine my dismay when I discovered that fifth grade would be my last year in New Jersey. But I entered sixth grade in Texas and tried with all I had to make friends. I’ve always heard that Texans are very friendly, and I found that true. I made so many friends, and like I said, I count down the days of breaks just to see them. Friendships are delicate things at first, but as you get to know the people, the bonds grow stronger. I believe that my bonds with my friends are golden ropes bound in diamond. And anyone can achieve that. But a friendship is a thing that if you never try to get, you will never understand the importance of. Friendship is one of the most important life essentials, and it will never be in vain. Friends are sapphire and silver presents of your innermost desires that lay inside vividly hued intricate wrappings.