Exploring Friendship

We met the first day of college.  Somehow, it came up in our conversation that she had a car and planned to go home on the weekends.  I planned to go home on the weekends, too, but my car was back home in New York, and I was now living in a dorm in the lovely city of Philadelphia.

After class, I went with her to a cafe and met her mom.  We had a great time, and by the end of the day, I felt like I had known her for years.

Her apartment was only 5 blocks from mine, and we started meeting up in the mornings to go to class together.  Between classes, we would head to Taco House, a little dive of a restaurant that had a huge, $5 lunch special.

On Fridays, we would leave the city after class.  She dropped me off at the train station near her parent's house, which was halfway between Philadelphia and my home.  I would then take a train to NYC followed by a bus to my suburban neighborhood.  On Sunday nights, my dad would drive me 45 minutes to her parents' house, and we would go back to school.

Our sophomore year, I moved to an apartment half a block away from hers.  By that point, we spent all day together.  We went to the same classes, and spent all our spare time at my apartment (sometimes we went to hers, but she lived in a 10'x10' room and I had the bigger place).

We started taking my car after she totaled hers, which worked out better for me because it was quicker than having to take a train and a bus to get homch e.  We shared so much of ourselves with each other on those car rides, and know all each other's secrets.

We've been there for each other through thick and thin, love and breakups, drunken sob fests (where I passed out on her floor on top of a bunch of gummi bears), roommate problems, boyfriend problems, and everything in between.  She loves my kids like they are her nephews and niece, and they call her Auntie Michelle.

Even though we don't spend nearly enough time together anymore because life gets in the way, we're really close.  I only see her 4 or 5 times a year, but we cherish the moments we have together.  We're still just as close as we were when we spent every waking moment together.

I thought I had met a ride home, but I really met my closest friend that fateful first day of college.

This post was written for this week's RemembeRED prompt from Write on Edge. This week, we’d like you to explore friendship. You can talk about a current friendship or one from your past, a friend you met over kindergarten snacks or happy hour at your first job. Examine your emotional interest in the friendship and the role it plays, or played, in your life. The word limit for this prompt is 400 words. 

What I've Gotten Through

This week, the prompt from Mama Kat's that struck me the most was 1.) What did you go through in order to get out? “The best way out is always through”  (Inspired by  Shatterboxx and some dude named Robert Frost).

I have struggled with demons since I was a teenager.  For a long time, I never thought I would get out.  Addiction and other self-destructive behaviors made it seem like there was no light at the end of the trouble.  But eventually, I did, and I really do credit it to my kids.  Becoming a mom totally changed my life.  I'm pretty sure I would be in prison, dead, or in a very bad way if I hadn't gotten pregnant when I did.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.  I was always a little self-destructive.  I've written a lot about how I was bullied in school, and to deal with it, I started drinking when I was 12 and cutting myself once I was in high school.  But things didn't get really out of control until I met my first boyfriend in community college.  He was disabled and we met when he asked me to help him smoke pot before class.  I should have cut and run, but I didn't.  I liked that he noticed me, and that ego boost was all I needed to get totally sucked in for the next 5 years.

I should have broken it off when he told me he needed me to drive his friends to rob someone for weed.  I didn't.  I should have never looked back after I ended up shut in a closet with garbage bags full of pot while police searched the house I was in.  I stayed. 

He promised me a lot.  His parents were very wealthy, and I got all new clothes, constant dinners at fancy restaurants, vacations, and the promise of a house.  I was caught up in the idea that I could get everything I wanted and not have to work for it.  I didn't know how much it would cost me-I was 18 and incredibly naive.

When he told me I only had friends because of him, I believed him.  He convinced me that I was damaged goods and that no one would ever love me but him.  He was controlling, even when I was in college in Philadelphia and he was in New York.  I drove home every weekend to be with him.  When I wasn't with him, he was constantly calling me to make sure I was too busy to do anything else but talk to him.

It was my first relationship, and I believed it was how love really worked.  Looking back, it makes me sick (and really sad) that I couldn't see how damaging and wrong I was.  I stopped talking to my family because he convinced me they were trying to break us up so I would never be happy.

Things got really bad when the hard drugs got involved.  Have I mentioned he became disabled in the first place because of a car accident due to being high on heroin and whippets?  You'd think one would learn from that.  Anyway, it started with a few pills, then led to coke and heroin, and finally led to crack.

I had a dark few years there, and I don't remember a lot (which I think may be a good thing, although now I have a terrible memory and sometimes people get annoyed that I repeat things a lot, or don't remember something important they told me).

I do remember the crazy drug runs and week-long binges, the lying, the stealing, the selling of prostitutes, the paranoia, the cheap motel rooms, and finally, when things got really bad, the bartering of me for drugs.  It really sucked.

We finally broke up when he threw me under the bus once and for all to save his own ass.  He had asked me to take a bunch of money out of one of his accounts (since he was disabled, he couldn't use the ATM).  His father was furious when he found out, and when confronted, my ex told him I stole the card and took the money out and he had no idea.  Of course, I was the one on the bank's surveillance videos.  I consider myself incredibly lucky I didn't go to prison.

Once the relationship was over, I was so incredibly relieved.  I managed to stay away from the drugs for a while, but my ex kept calling me.  He still needed someone to help him do drugs, and apparently, he didn't care that he almost ruined my entire life (drugs will do that to a person-all you care about is getting more drugs-nothing and no one else matters).  I fell for it and continued to do drugs.

When I met the boyfriend, I finally stopped seeing my ex.  I still couldn't kick the drugs, though, and for a while, the boyfriend and I were spiraling out of control.  Then I realized I was pregnant, and it changed my life.  It did what no rehab could do-make me see that there was something to really live for, something much more important than the pull of any drug.

I went through a whole lot of hell before I came out on top.  I've seen things and done things most other moms who see me walking around with my kids would never guess.  I consider myself lucky for coming out unscathed for the most part.  Yeah, I rotted my teeth with the drugs, compromised myself and my morals, permanently damaged the inside of my nose, and ruined my memory, but I'm alive, sober, and happy.

It doesn't take much for me to look back and think of how bad things could have been.  I could very well have been that homeless crackhead prostitute you see when you go into a bad neighborhood.  I could have been that dead body in the gutter, forgotten by all until some off-leash dog finally discovered me.  I could have been locked behind bars for 20 years.

Instead, I learned what love really is, both the relationship kind of love and the unconditional love you can never imagine until you have a child.  I learned that life is worth living.  I learned that anyone who tries to tear me down or convince me I am not worth it is the one who isn't worth it.  I learned having money can't buy happiness or love.  I learned that real friends are the ones who stick around through good and bad, not just when you do drugs with them or give them shit.  I learned that there are a lot of people who will just hang around you because of drugs and money, and those are people I want to stay far away from.

But the most important thing I got out of it all is that I can get through anything.  No matter what life throws at me, no matter how bad things may seem, they will get better, and I will fight to come out on top of whatever life may throw at me.

Apparently I Have Crappy Friends

If this is true, then I really only  have one friend and my family.  That sounds so sad when I actually have to look at it.  I really like this quote, though, because, when you think about it, it makes a lot of sense.

Why should we try to cultivate friendships when we are the only ones who care?  It reminds me of all the craptastic people I have friended on Facebook who I haven't seen in 10 years or more.  A lot of them are just people I went to school and never hung out with.  Whatever, I don't care that we don't talk.

But the people I was friends with?  The ones I reached out to and nothing ever came of it?  They can go screw themselves.  I realize a lot has changed since high school, but I spent a lot of time with some of these girls.  Like, every single day of the week.  We got driven to school together, walked home together, and hung out every day.  We went to concerts together.  Now, nothing.

One person in question actually lives down the street from me.  I see her sometimes and we always say we will hang out one day.  And I make the effort to do it.  I invite her to come to the zoo with me and my kids, or to take a walk-then nothing.  It sucks, and I don't know why I waste my time on people who were friends who now don't care.

Another girl comes to mind as well.  We were both outcasts in school, and in the same honors and AP classes.  We ate lunch together between the stacks in the library.  I've reached out to her a few times and she couldn't even be bothered to attempt to make plans.  This was a girl who I liked so much that I lost my popular friends for sticking up for her.  I bet I could pass her on the street now and she wouldn't give me the time of day.  I never had a lot of friends, so it's not fun when the old ones dump me.

Then there was college, where I met a lot of awesome people, many of whom were in my major, screenwriting. Which was good, because our major had a grand total of 15 students.  In our classes, you really got to know everyone and you loved them or hated them (although I only hated one girl, and only after we lived together for a year).  A lot of us shared apartments.  Thankfully, I still talk to a few people in college and even though we don't spend a lot of time together.  I still consider many of them my friends.


Then I have my best friend, Lady.  We met on the first day of college and hit it off right away.  And she had her car with her in Philadelphia.  I needed a car to come home to New York every weekend to see my then fiance.  She lived in an apartment, not a dorm like me, and went home on weekends too.  We spent a lot of time in the car together those 4 years.  Actually, we just spent a lot of time together.

We met up every morning and walked to class, went to lunch between classes, and went to each other's apartments after class.  I don't know why we never became roommates because we spent pretty much every waking moment together for 4 years.  I love her to death.  She knows all my dirty little secrets, and we've been with each other through good times and bad, through breakups and problems.

Even though we only see each other a few times a year now, we're still really close.  We usually meet up on birthdays and Columbus Day (which means I get to see her Monday, woohoo!).  She and her fiance love my kids, and his kids love playing with mine, even though they're older (although it is pretty funny to see a 3 year old beat up on a 7 year old).  This summer, I had a big birthday party for me and we spent hours reminiscing about college with another guy from our major (my boyfriend and her fiance and the kids all fell asleep waiting for us to wrap it up).

It is really hard for me to make new friends.  I've been hurt so many times by people that I put up a wall.  I'm sure a lot of people who don't know me well are intimidated by me or think I'm a bitch.  But I have my family and a few close friends (okay only 1 close friend and a few other friends), and that's enough for me.  Because I know they care about me and won't judge me for stupid things.  I can be myself and not worry about it.  They just get a bigger piece of my heart and that is good enough for me.


This post was written in response to a prompt from this Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop.  5.) I have no idea where the following message originated from, but it’s been floating around Facebook for the past week…who does it make you think about? (message in photo at top of post)