In everything I do- I have ever done- I only put half my heart into it. I have used it as an insurance policy. As long as I never give all I have, I will always have something left. And nobody wants half of anything so they always give my heart back.
That, I will have to admit, is a lie. I never only give a half hearted effort for anything. No matter what it is, I give all I have. I get attached so easily. I am fully anchored anywhere I have ever been, to anyone I have ever been involved with. That is why I am so good at getting hurt.
I met this girl when I was four years old. She was a little older than me, missing a tooth, and dressed in an overly frilly dress. It was blue. Her homemade haircut left some scraggily straight bangs hanging in her eyes. We were at church- my first time. We went as an obligation because the church had helped us get back on our feet when our house burned down.
“My name is Ashley. I’m five years old,” she said because her mom had pushed her toward me. “My name is Jessica, I’m only four,” I answered back. We went on in this I-like-your-dress- fight for about ten minutes. “When is your birthday?” I finally asked. When she replied, “May 9th“, we immediately became best friends because my birthday was May 9th too.
This Saturday we celebrated our birthdays- I was seventeen, she was eighteen. I called her early morning to wish her a happy birthday. She promised she’d be at my house by four in the afternoon. I went on about my day, getting ready for my party and helping my mom cook and clean. People started to arrive at three, first my grandparents from out of town, then my dad’s best friend, then my uncle and all his teenagers, but no Ashley.
It was six when we finally dined on some scrumptious homemade lasagna, but no Ashley. By the time we had finished eating I had decided that something had gone wrong. I went upstairs and saw I had no missed calls. I worried as I dialed her number. “Hello?” she answered happily. “Are you coming at all?” I asked, very frustrated because she wasn’t there because she was eating at Pizza Hut with her ugly, fifteen year old boyfriend.
When she showed up at 8:30, I decided to ignore her kindly; after all, it was her birthday too. She walked around with her boyfriend and said hey to my family. It was already dark so we were all just sitting around, rather than walking or playing basketball. She left thinking she had done nothing wrong.
The next morning, at church, when I walked over to sit in my usual pew she looked up and asked, “Are you sitting with us?” I replied, “Well, this is my seat.” The argument proceeded as such:
“Well you are being a little snippy.”
“That’s okay Micha, you can sit back down,” I said to her boyfriend who had gotten up to give me my seat. I walked out of the church with all my rage clenched in my fists. I took a minute to decide to go and sit in my place anyway. I walked back to my seat and sat as far away as close was to her.
I would like to point out I hadn’t said a word all day. I had been depressed from goings on of an entire different elephant. I had planned to just keep to myself and keep peace among the ranks. But I just couldn’t handle the slander from my “best friend.”
As I sat she turned to me and says, “I’m sorry. I thought you were mad at me.” When my face remained turned down, she proceeded to ask, “What’s wrong?” I got up and walked from the church and hid myself in the bathroom to have a good cry.
I wasn’t upset because she had slandered my tactics on how to handle my depression. I was angry at her for standing me up, yes, but that want the reason either. I wasn’t dwelling on the cutting eyes I had received from her the months prior to this moment. I was just realizing that at this moment, I had lost my best friend. She has “grown up” and come to an age where she doesn’t need me anymore. My advice, knowledge, and assistance on English papers is no longer needed. It hurt, still does. And I bet it always will.
I poured twelve years of my life into this. I put all I had and more into this friendship, and it was all a waste. I don’t regret having this lifelong affair with her, it taught me many lessons. She taught me to exercise patients, kindness, and the one I struggle with most, love. I learned to love unconditionally. And if the opportunity ever surfaces to restore this relationship to its former glory, I certainly shall.
I think I left a piece of my heart on your bedroom shelf, could you bring that back please?
-Jessica D Hunt
That, I will have to admit, is a lie. I never only give a half hearted effort for anything. No matter what it is, I give all I have. I get attached so easily. I am fully anchored anywhere I have ever been, to anyone I have ever been involved with. That is why I am so good at getting hurt.
I met this girl when I was four years old. She was a little older than me, missing a tooth, and dressed in an overly frilly dress. It was blue. Her homemade haircut left some scraggily straight bangs hanging in her eyes. We were at church- my first time. We went as an obligation because the church had helped us get back on our feet when our house burned down.
“My name is Ashley. I’m five years old,” she said because her mom had pushed her toward me. “My name is Jessica, I’m only four,” I answered back. We went on in this I-like-your-dress- fight for about ten minutes. “When is your birthday?” I finally asked. When she replied, “May 9th“, we immediately became best friends because my birthday was May 9th too.
This Saturday we celebrated our birthdays- I was seventeen, she was eighteen. I called her early morning to wish her a happy birthday. She promised she’d be at my house by four in the afternoon. I went on about my day, getting ready for my party and helping my mom cook and clean. People started to arrive at three, first my grandparents from out of town, then my dad’s best friend, then my uncle and all his teenagers, but no Ashley.
It was six when we finally dined on some scrumptious homemade lasagna, but no Ashley. By the time we had finished eating I had decided that something had gone wrong. I went upstairs and saw I had no missed calls. I worried as I dialed her number. “Hello?” she answered happily. “Are you coming at all?” I asked, very frustrated because she wasn’t there because she was eating at Pizza Hut with her ugly, fifteen year old boyfriend.
When she showed up at 8:30, I decided to ignore her kindly; after all, it was her birthday too. She walked around with her boyfriend and said hey to my family. It was already dark so we were all just sitting around, rather than walking or playing basketball. She left thinking she had done nothing wrong.
The next morning, at church, when I walked over to sit in my usual pew she looked up and asked, “Are you sitting with us?” I replied, “Well, this is my seat.” The argument proceeded as such:
“Well you are being a little snippy.”
“That’s okay Micha, you can sit back down,” I said to her boyfriend who had gotten up to give me my seat. I walked out of the church with all my rage clenched in my fists. I took a minute to decide to go and sit in my place anyway. I walked back to my seat and sat as far away as close was to her.
I would like to point out I hadn’t said a word all day. I had been depressed from goings on of an entire different elephant. I had planned to just keep to myself and keep peace among the ranks. But I just couldn’t handle the slander from my “best friend.”
As I sat she turned to me and says, “I’m sorry. I thought you were mad at me.” When my face remained turned down, she proceeded to ask, “What’s wrong?” I got up and walked from the church and hid myself in the bathroom to have a good cry.
I wasn’t upset because she had slandered my tactics on how to handle my depression. I was angry at her for standing me up, yes, but that want the reason either. I wasn’t dwelling on the cutting eyes I had received from her the months prior to this moment. I was just realizing that at this moment, I had lost my best friend. She has “grown up” and come to an age where she doesn’t need me anymore. My advice, knowledge, and assistance on English papers is no longer needed. It hurt, still does. And I bet it always will.
I poured twelve years of my life into this. I put all I had and more into this friendship, and it was all a waste. I don’t regret having this lifelong affair with her, it taught me many lessons. She taught me to exercise patients, kindness, and the one I struggle with most, love. I learned to love unconditionally. And if the opportunity ever surfaces to restore this relationship to its former glory, I certainly shall.
I think I left a piece of my heart on your bedroom shelf, could you bring that back please?
-Jessica D Hunt
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