Personal Essay I wrote for comp. Better than it sounds!^^

It was an essay about a personal experience we had and a lesson we learned. Since "her" birthday is on March 10, I was already kinda thinking about her. So, this came out. ^^ I hope you like it!

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I was in the eighth grade when I realized I wasn’t normal. I had just ended a deep relationship with one of my closest friends, and was in dire need of a companion. It came for me in the form of a prissy upper-middle class thinks-she’s-better-than-you girl. I hated her at first, but a common interest seemed to force us together. She quickly learned of my fallout and practically assigned herself to the role of my best friend. At that point, I didn’t much care either way, but this way, at least I had a friend. She grew to hate my friends; she pulled me away from them and we became our own. I don’t really remember how it began, or why it began, but I remember that she was there for me when I needed her.

I was 13 when she told me she loved me. I knew what she meant when she said it, one look into her big brown eyes and I knew how she felt. However, my feelings weren’t so secure about her. I knew I liked her. She saved me. But I wasn’t sold on the love. I had said, “I love you” to my friend, and he turned me away. I wasn’t ready to face that again. Nevertheless, we continued on as normal. We would kiss and hug and hold hands, everything a normal couple did. But we weren’t normal. We were the same. And it bothered me when I knew she wouldn’t notice.

I felt such dread inside whenever someone else looked at us with an odd expression on his or her face. I wondered, will they notice? Would they care? Do I care? I realized that I did. I cared what these people thought of me. These people who taunted and tormented me for years of my adolescence, I actually cared what they thought about me!

I tried to hide it. I withdrew. She would reach to hold my hand and I would turn the other way, as if I didn’t notice what she was about to do. I think it hurt her, but to this day I am still unsure.

We were cruel. She harbored an extremely large vendetta against certain friends of mine, mainly the ones that hurt me. She would come up with these wicked plans just to hurt them. To make them feel like crap. The worst was when she came up with the idea to date a boy in our grade just because he liked her a little. She played with him, toyed with him, while on the side she and I were laughing at his misfortune. I think he knew we were together, but I don’t think he knew why she was with him. This boy hurt me so badly, taunting and throwing rocks at me, I wanted him to hurt just as bad as I did. She did that for me.

As the rifts between my friends and I began to close and mend, she started to worry. She knew that soon I wouldn’t need her anymore. But before that could happen she made me depended on her. I still needed her and she pulled out all the tricks. She broke up with the boy that hurt me, and fed me lies everyday. Your friends hate you. I love you. You don’t need them. You need me.

I believed it. She was so kind to me, she loved me, she was there when I needed her. We spent nearly every weekend together and before we would sleep she would kiss me on the lips softly and say, “I love you, Kari. I love you.” And look up at me with her big doe eyes, and I believed her. I depended on her. She took advantage of my trust and attraction to her, which I still hadn’t realized the extent of. It wasn’t normal to feel like that toward a girl. She knew how I felt and played on it as much as she could.

Once she deemed me dependant enough, she decided to break me. She flirted with all my friends, even the ones she hated, and rubbed up on all the guys at school. I distantly wondered why she didn’t do that to the girls, seeing as how…we were…not normal. She shredded me apart while we were at school. She would laughingly say to me “I love you Kari, but god, not like that!” I didn’t understand at first, maybe she was just kidding…because someone who whispers sweet nothings in your ear as you fall asleep surely, surely couldn’t be that cruel. But she was. When we were alone, she would tell me she’d move mountains for me. She would love me forever, and she would tell me she meant it with all of her heart. Mend me up just to break me down.

She did it constantly, so much that by the end of our eighth grade year, I was a mess. I didn’t notice when they came, but suddenly during choir that day every girl in the room was surrounding us. I paled when I realized we were still holding hands and that they must have noticed it by now. All of the girls wore scrunched up faces of disgust, glancing between our faces and our intertwined hands. Panic and fear flew through me; I didn’t know what to do. But she just stood there. Calm and collected, and god, I wished I was her for a moment.

I don’t remember what the choir girls said, or what they had screamed at us, but I do remember them closing in. Backing us into the corner of the room until six girls reached out with fists clenched and hatred in their eyes. If our choir director hadn’t come out of his office at that precise time, I know something much worse than detention would’ve happened.

It continued on through the first few months of ninth grade until I met my best friend. Her name was Tessa and she was so cute. I wondered if I would feel the same feelings I had for Her with every other girl friend I had. I soon realized it wasn’t attraction I felt for Tessa, but just common friendship.
She thought differently. She saw Tessa as losing me. She didn’t want to let go, not after training me so well to listen to every word that came out of her mouth. Instead of becoming cruel to Tessa, which is what I thought she would do, she got closer. The kind of close she was with me. And the lying came faster and more determined than before.

I didn’t take me long to figure out that it wasn’t me that needed her, it was her who needed me. In her sick and twisted way, she got into my heart and I got into hers, and then we were no more normal than anyone else.

After ninth grade I ended it. She was moving anyways, and I simply said to her, whatever was, is no more. And she understood me perfectly. She didn’t fight it or whine and complain, she just accepted it. It took a lot for me to be able to do that, to reject her oppression and become independent, but it still bothered me that she accepted it so willingly. Part of me wished she had screamed at me about how much she really did love me, and how much she wanted to be with me. I cant remember how many times I held the phone in my hand ready to call her, be with her, need her again. I knew I had to live for myself, and rely on no one.

After those two years I began to see our school in a different light. These are people who were mean to me and cruel to me, just like she was. Why do I care what they think? I answer came faster than I knew.

I didn’t. I honestly didn’t care anymore. I may have while she and I were dating, but that was no more. The school that hated us, the class that attacked us, they don’t matter. Why should I go through my life worrying what other people will say about me? I am me, they are not. For the first time in my life, I felt genuinely accomplished. I felt as if I could do anything, and I knew that I could. People can scream and object all they want, I just want to live.

Nothing i say can sum up my feelings about this essay, So i will have to ponder about it for a while, which won't help heh. I'll tell you on monday i guess, or just edit my post on here with it. Or both.