A Life Changing Event

It had been in November, I was at my godmother’s wedding. It was right after taking pictures of the happy bride and groom when I checked my phone and my life changed forever. They had been my friends, my three best friends whom I had just planned a trip to Florida with without them knowing literally five minutes before they betrayed me. They had rejected my friendship, out of the blue, out of nowhere, without explanation, in a span of a few text messages. Really? Text Messages? We were juniors in high school and they didn’t have the audacity to confront me in person, they had to hide behind technology as they tore me down. “You’re not worth our friendship anymore” among with other very mean and inappropriate things were sent to me, by all three of them, all at the same time. Apparently I was a fun topic to talk about at sleepovers.

            So, there I was, at the wedding reception, bawling my eyes out just wanting some answers but, I guess I’m unworthy of that right. I’ll never know why they did it or what drove them to do it. No one really does but the next day at school was awful. They had tried their hardest to get people to hate me by telling them lies, telling them all of the fights we had. Eleven years of friendship meant jack in the end and they used everything against me to try to scrounge up enemies. This really forced me to reevaluate how I am as a friend and who really was a friend in the end. The result of this little “hate club” was devastating but necessary.

            With a void in my life it was pretty hard to even function. I was left broken with a boyfriend who became my support overnight. This automatic dependency on a boy I had been dating for only two months took a toll on our relationship. I was blind to how poor he had been treating me due to how much I needed him for a bit while I tried to regain my dignity. This event ruined a good portion of my junior year of high school because no matter what, those three would run their mouths and continue to give me reasons to loath every fiber of their being. It was impossible to come to school sometimes when I had so much anger built up so at one point I knew I was going to snap, sending fists of fury into their faces but I controlled it and thought to myself “that lack of social skills will hold them back as I move forward.”

            I had to be strong, I had to have a chin up and I learned how to just accept things and believe that life moves on. I had to embrace the concept that being nice to people who may not entirely deserves it is really good for the soul. Being nice because it feels nice is false, but being nice because it’s a yearning that needs to be fulfilled is true and that is what those three made me follow. Due to them I am more independent and nicer overall. Despite how much they influenced a terrible relationship I was in it really helped me develop as a person.

            A year and a half later it is clear to me that those three really needed to do that. I am better than that, I will move on and I strive to be the best I can be. My new friends don’t ridicule about my interests or scoff at my habits, my old but new friends have been through it all and will pick me up when I am down which is something I am not accustomed to. So really, at this point, I would like to thank those three that put me down for no reason in a text message. They showed me how much better I am than I thought I was. Now I can put one foot in front of the other and get moving to a life that I am independent in.

Assigned by a Buttface

Agatha Christie, what a gal. She’s mellow when she wants to be, hyper when she wants to be. With flowing black hair and an addiction to cottage cheese and peanut butter she is someone people find all too fond. Sure, her exotic appearance forces people to stare but most of them find her to be a beautiful young lady. Only a few years after her teens her youth is charming and inviting. I suppose you could say she is ideal; however, some characteristics hinder perfection but those are all minimal.

She loves hockey oddly enough. Get her in a hockey stadium and you’ll hear her cheer from across the rink, and whether it’s appropriate for children I’ll spoil the fun and fill you in that no, no it is not. I mean, this isn’t to say she isn’t a good role model…she is one of the most athletic people I know, running faster than anyone I’ve ever seen with an eye that can spot any high ball.

Aggie is such a daddy’s girl too. Pops is her favorite and everyone knows it, they’re always playing catch in the park and always walk together and he simply adores her. I mean, yeah, sometimes she gets out of line and he isn’t afraid to scold her but their friendship is gained soon enough. This isn’t to say Aggie doesn’t love her mama but it’s kind of clear who she prefers.

As for her sisters we get along lovely. We’re always bathing in the sun together, always hanging out, always skateboarding. Our similar intellect make us quite compatible, along with our sleeping habits of…none. We have a lot of the same facial features as well which make us quite the hoot at dinner; her eyebrows are very expressive as mine. We both even hate shopping, she’s not a prissy little thing which is quite a relief. In the winter we’re two peas in a pod, she loves the cold, I love the cold. In the spring we’re twins, she hates the cold rain, I hate the cold rain. In the summer it’s like we’re separated at birth, she loves basking, I love basking. Even in the fall we are soul mates, she loves being outside, I love being outside.

Yeah, Aggie is pretty great, a bit vulgar, totally active, a fool, and someone I really enjoy and get along with. I mean even while rooming with her she was a joy. Sometimes her half of the room was a little messy but overall she picked her stuff up and put it where it belonged. She had a simple taste like I do so really we were the perfect pair. Aggie will never have children though, not her thing really. That’s fine though, I don’t think the world could handle another Agatha Christie…spoiler alert…Aggie is my pet dog.

Evoking Couplets

This is something I wrote to really just evoke a response. It isn't about anyone that I actually know, there wasn't even a real muse...unless you want to count Lindsay Lohan's character in "Mean Girls."

*  *  *

To walk in a row two by two
I hardly even realize that one is you.
With you hair and make-up all the same
Honestly now, I am not the one to blame.
You declare yourself unique and different,
And there is no way you are your claimed misfit.
So as you sit there and gossip and speak of pseudo-truths
Don’t you ever dare speak a word against Ruth.
Ruth is an individual and Ruth is true
And Ruth is living a life quite unlike you.
She actually cares about others and is one in a million
Unlike your plastic cut-out self manufactured by the billion.
All you ever crave is to look "cute" and "important."
Well let me tell you, your personality is dirtier than my doormat.
Look at me and sneer all you want,
But honey, mother gave me more to flaunt.
So hike down your shirt and yank up your shorts,
And I'll see you in a few years during a custody battle in court.
Call me blunt all you want, even call me brutal,
But you are the media's tiny toy poodle.
They carry you around and dress you as the intend;
You are hanging on a leash, you know, don't pretend.
I stand before you, ranting and raving,
But I can see through to the personality you're saving.
Please break free from your fake outer shell,
And honestly ask, what purpose you attempt to sell?
Exactly, there is none, you have no crowd.
So stop writing a speech for society's acceptance for they only frown.
Don't plead to good ol' mirror mirror on the wall,
Because it won't show your outer beauty but your defeat and fall
For those who shine from the inside then beyond
Have a true character and beauty most find fond.
So remember not the snicker at Ruth, a girl so quaint,
But rather think of her as Genuine’s saint.
Because you aren't so great and you're not so grand,
And despite your high GPA and "friends" you're rather quite bland.
I was once a friend when convenient but now just a burden,
But hell, your real "friends" go on and herd 'em;
Because they, like you, are just sheep in life,
And I'd be ashamed if I was a man and you were my wife.
I know that you would lack care and compassion
For being plastic is your favorite past-time interaction.
And I ask you one more time to not be what you act like, scum,
But instead defy the plastic and be real from toe to mind to thumb.
Once you do that you won't be filed in a line.
Then after that you and I can be friends and be kind.