“Maybe we got lost in translation. Maybe I asked for too much.” – All Too Well by Taylor Swift
Everyday, I check the “On This Day” feature on Facebook. Sometimes I would share some memories, and sometimes I would simply reminisce. But yesterday, aside from celebrating two “friendversaries”, I stumbled upon a memory that, I would say, will haunt me. It had to do with a friend that I somewhat disowned.
I wrote about her before. Here’s the link. Read it before proceeding with this post.
(waits for you to finish reading the article in the link)
This is our history:
She’s five years older than me, but she looked my age. Six years ago (when I was a high school sophomore) when you look at her for the first time, you wouldn’t think that she was a teacher. She looked so young, and literally a few only took her seriously in school. Luckily, I was part of the few who took her seriously. I guess it was brought about by me respecting every teacher I had, since I wanted to be like them then. But if I wanted to be someone else, I might have been part of the majority.
She was pretty…no, she was beautiful. She was beautiful enough to make me affirm that I am not straight — that I liked boys and girls (for the record, I had girl crushes when I was a child). She taught Algebra six years ago. I did poor in that subject, but there was a grading period that I got an A- in that subject. She was so proud of me then, and she really made me feel that. I got a B- a grading period after, and she showed her concern, especially that I was close to tears when I found out. (Well, I really had puffy eyes then because our pet pug died the day before. Anyway…) Ever since then, whenever I would come to her for help in assignments, she would entertain me. Of course, I had a hidden agenda then, since I developed a crush on her. Sophomore year ended, and I thought she would never be my teacher again.
Then came junior year, and tada, she became my Chemistry teacher. I got excited and giddy. Yay! More time with her. Unlike my Algebra grades, my grades in Chemistry were excellent. I don’t know if I did well because I was naturally good in Chemistry or because my crush on her developed even more. We grew closer, as I still asked for help in Chem (so that I can get higher grades. Back then, school and friends were the most important things to me). But it was also in junior year when we had a drift. I would always walk and talk with her after classes, but then there were times when I would feel abandoned by her, especially when other students would ambush her. I remember one time when I literally walked out on her. I was so depressed then, to the point that I almost committed suicide for that reason only. After a while, we patched things up, since I hated conflicts with friends (who likes them anyway?). At that time, my crush on her was gone since I already had a boyfriend then.
I then found out that she was leaving my school, and so I left her a notebook to write a message for me. I read it, and it was looooong. She apologized for the times I felt abandoned, and she asked if we can be friends. And so we became friends. We would hang out sometimes, and we’d text each other and talk online. I even invited her to my 18th birthday party!
I really found a friend in her, an older sister even. There was even a time that we’d text each other everyday, and that lasted for a month. And then after a while, without any given reason, she distanced herself from me. I felt bad again, because I felt abandoned again. There were times that I would text her, and she wouldn’t reply. I really felt bad because she would instantly reply right away before. But for some unexplainable and unknown reason, she no longer replied.
There came a time when I wanted to confront her. It was Christmas season in 2015. I couldn’t meet her, so I did it via text. I explained my side, and she somewhat explained her side. The sad thing about it was I couldn’t understand and accept her reasons (well, mostly because I was still depressed and she didn’t give a clear reason). I really started to question our friendship. I really felt like it was a one-sided relationship. I was close to giving up on her, but I told myself that I will give her a chance.
I sent her a Christmas greeting, and I got no reply. Sent her a New Year’s greeting, and she replied with “happy new year”. I asked her if we could re-patch things, but she gave no reply. After two months, I sent her a farewell message via text (again), but I couldn’t get her off my mind. After a month or two, I would send her messages saying sorry, but she still wouldn’t respond. Until there came a time that we met twice, and guess what? SHE DIDN’T TALK TO ME!
And so I kept on sending apologies until I told myself “Cloie, stop it. It’s pretty obvious that she doesn’t want to patch things up.” And so I made a fake Facebook account just to quarrel with her and defend myself and tell her all the things I wanted to tell her, like calling her a b***h. And there, she did release her inner monster just like what I did. We parted ways in the worst way possible, and it was through Facebook!
I told my friends about what happened, and of course they sided with me, but they did point out her points. I did realize them, and once again, I said sorry. But I have no hope. Well, maybe I am better off without her.
Yesterday was not the first time I saw her in my Facebook memories this month. And every time I’d see her, I would miss her. I mean, she did shape a part of me, and she was really an older sister to me. But then again, it’s as if she didn’t want me in her life.
You know what hurt the most? In that message she wrote me, she told me that she will always listen to me. And where’s that? I mean, if she had a problem, I just wished she gave me obvious hints and not just kept silent. I didn’t know her that well then, meaning I didn’t know that silent treatment meant that she had issues.
Now that I’m more mature, I understand her and her choice of not telling me of her problems. I guess a part of her wanted to spare me of feeling bad for her, since I have bipolar 2. But as her friend (if she ever considered me as a friend), I was concerned about her. I really got worried about her, and knowing nothing really hurt me a lot. But hey, it’s her choice.
She’d often repeat to me in our last conversations that we had made choices in our now broken relationship. She really gave emphasis on that. Well, I guess her choice was to get rid of me, or that’s what I think of it. And so I also made a choice to get rid of her in my life since the relationship was really unhealthy for me. But now, looking back, I wish I just tried to understand her. But then again, I was not mature enough. Now that I’m wiser, I wish to turn back time and correct myself, but that’s impossible.
Honestly, I feel somehow miserable because of this. I really miss her. I wish I could still talk to her. I wish we can patch things up. I really messed this up big time. I never intentionally ended friendships, until this happened. I hate breaking up with friends. That, I think, is worse than breaking up with your partner. Anyway, so yeah. I really feel bad. I really wish I could turn back time and relive those moments that I was aggressive. Or better, relive those happy moments we had.
Oh dear, My eyes are tearing up. I really want to cry. She was my first love, my Ate, and in a way, my mentor. And I threw it all away. Uh, I hate myself for this, but what can I do? I must have hurt her a lot too. After all, I was not the only person in that relationship. Uh, I really feel bad. I wish I could talk to her, even for one last time. I just want to tell her everything I want to tell her: that I regret all the words I said, that she shaped a bit part of me, that I still love her (of course, as a friend), that I will never forget her, that I wish for her to come to my funeral, if ever she’s still around by then, and that I will go to her funeral if I’m still around by then.
If ever she doesn’t want to talk to me, I want her to read this post. My past blog was also an avenue for her to know my thoughts and feelings. I wish a friend would tell her to read this. If they have to force her, I would tell them to do so. Uh, I really just feel miserable. I just wish I never said those nasty words to her.
It’s 2:30 in the morning, 27th of September 2017. Honestly, I want her back in my life. But if it’s not God’s will, then so be it. I’ll just go to sleep, and I wish I wouldn’t dream of her. If I do, I’d just cry it out. But I really hope I won’t. I don’t want to cry the first thing in the morning. I’ll get puffy eyes all day, and I don’t want that.