Growth from a Small Town

I sat in the car for a minute after dropping off the condolence card at the funeral home in support of my former friend's grief.

We had met in middle school. In an unevenly numbered class, I had been the odd one out after everyone selected their partners. The teacher kindly added me to my former friend's group which our soon-to-be mutual friend was also in. All she knew about me was that "I was the weird kid with the funny eye", and she thought of me as "scary." The bruise over my right eye was gruesome after surgery, and my new friend wasn't the only one who felt that way. Regardless, the two partners welcomed me into their group for the day. She found out "I wasn't so bad or scary."

That just goes to show you how opinions change for middle school students. I found in that group project my two new friends, both of which would sustain beyond high school; one for only a few years after, and the other is still in existence. It is the friendship that extended for only a few years after that I am commemorating in memory today.

Thinking back, our friendship was convenient for her. At times though, I truly felt she enjoyed it. We shared a love of "emo music", science fiction, paranormal phenomenon, literature, English, and History. We also had several classes together. It seemed to me as if fate had brought us together, and it made life much more enjoyable to have a "partner in crime."

Occasionally, however, I felt as though we might have very different outlooks on the matter. As happy as I was about our friendship, I couldn't help but feel that to her it was about lessening misery. Acknowledgement of that fact made me feel less like a partner and more like a Joker in front of the Queen.

On occasion, it was clear that I was considered more entertainment and amusement than a friend. I wasn't always part of the "royal circle", but what I added did seem to strengthen group bonds.

In two-person group projects our other friend was in, they worked together. I was left to find a partner. I learned to speak with others and constantly move out of my comfort zone of friendships. In doing so, I gained several acquaintances if not friends. My reputation for being "odd, eccentric, or weird" did not change, but I gained new descriptors like "helpful, easy to get along with, reliable, and loyal" by those peers. Some of those peers even began selecting me as a first choice for team projects, which made me feel good.

When groups larger than two were required, my former friends' team and those new ones I had helped create combined. On occasion, I helped my former friends gain new friendships with others they wouldn't have spoken to otherwise, which felt nice. Cohesion of these groups was a direct result of my experience in gaining a new friendship, despite occasionally being excluded by my prior ones. It proved advantageous on several occasions. I discovered that although it hurt to be excluded, I was getting an experience that made it more worthwhile.

I think of how many more friends I made from that exclusion, and how much I still treasure them. Though some would call me a fool or say I was overly positive on the matter, it seems their exclusion served a positive purpose after all. Perhaps, I was indeed friendly.

At times, I wondered if this "friendliness" was received well by my former best friend or if it was a mark against me.

She once said to me once in gym class, "You have over a dozen laughs, but this one...you really laughed. It was your real laugh, I could tell." with a smile as we ran our mile.

My facial expression paused for a brief moment as my body continued to jog. I was truly feeling like the Joker in front of the Queen once again.

Responding to my expression, she continued, "You're always trying to get others to laugh to feel better, but sometimes I wonder about what YOU are really feeling. You can't just be happy all the time. That was your authentic laugh. I know it. Those others aren't real." She smiled strangely.

I was dumbstruck. Hadn't I always had authentic laughs despite their variations? Though, she was partially right. I was always trying my best to be a lighthearted face of joy in loved ones' despair.

I continued jogging sluggishly and barely made my ten minute mile that her tall, slender figure walked. Her words, rarely spoken words-I might add, weighed on my mind. Was she calling me a liar or trying to find fault in me? Did she pity me? Did I come across as pitying her? It wasn't pity I gave her, but rather genuine friendship. Friendship that no matter what ridicule, criticism, or derogatory comments that poured out of that mouth of hers held steadfast. She was my adored and beloved friend, and her smiles were worth every ounce of the criticism she gave.

My laugh: I began to wonder was that truly my authentic one? Had I been deceiving myself and others through humor?

It was my coping mechanism, that I knew for certain, but deceptive I considered it not. The other laughs were part of me too. Part of me I enjoyed and had fun with. The idea of voice acting appealed to me, and I dreamed of it often. From the excitement I felt when asked to play the role of a Gameshow Host or a Ringmaster in local church plays, I knew I loved it. It was a blast. I was a woman of many accents all adopted from things I loved and enjoyed. Depending on how I felt, I was sure to slip into one of them with a smile. That was part of me. Was it criticized by others including family? Yes, but it was a part of me. Those laughs were part of me too. Was she trying to find fault in me? Did she want me to start doubting myself? Did she doubt my authenticity? That thought hurt in a way I wanted to shove to the corners of my mind, and the outside borders of my heart.

I made so many special notes about her in attempt to win her favor. I excitedly saved up to buy gifts she would like for holidays. I showed up on her doorstep asking if she would like to go to festivals or other events I was attending. I included her in my other friend groups. I introduced her to my friends at state camp that we spent our week with. We had a good time I thought. I did this because I enjoyed her company. I thought we both had a genuinely good time together.

Now every look she gave made me wonder.

When we played the friendship "Newlywed Game" at 4-H camp as Chief and Sag at 4-H camp, I thought excitedly that we would have the advantage because we were best friends. While my answers for her proved true, she didn't get a single question about me correct. I was baffled. Maybe I hadn't made myself clear? I once again questioned my authenticity. The younger members of our 4-H tribe knew all the answers. They got them right, so I wasn't that difficult to read. One had approached me asking if we truly were best friends or not since she didn't know anything about me. While children are usually honest, I chose to delude myself. I brushed it off as she just didn't find those questions interesting or appealing about me or maybe I had confused her with too much information at various points.

Just as there were many times I questioned our friendship, there were times I did not. I knew of several factual occasions we both mutually enjoyed.

A memory flashed back of driving to my former friend's apartment in my new-to-me car. She was so glad I had gotten rid of the "land-boat", a 1989 Ford Crown Victoria LTD, I so adored previously. Unlike the majority of my male friends, she and my other female friend found the vehicle super embarrassing. My father and I used to joke about putting bullhorns and a "Meat House Mafia Mama" license plate on the front since the road we lived on was named Meat House.

"Oh, God, no, I'm never getting in that thing!" she responded with disgust, and I laughed so hard.

It was true, she never rode in "that thing." My family had sold it a year or so later to another family member in desperate need of a vehicle, and assured me they would replace it with one "better suited for me" in college. My flashback picked back up at her apartment, and the glee that spread across her face when I pulled up in an aqua blue 2007 Ford Focus SES. Now, this was a surprise.

"Will you ride in this thing?" I ask playfully.

"What thing? Now, that is a car!" she said as she climbed in excitedly and murmured, "It's so cute! Thank God you got rid of that land-boat."

"I rather miss the ol' girl, but this one will do nicely. She gets great gas mileage." I replied a bit wistfully.

"Did you name this one yet?" she smiled, hoping to be a part of the process.

"I was leaning on Marina." I responded.

"Well, that is much better than that other one." she considered, "but what do you think about Althea?"

"I think that's your name, and I'm not going to take it." I responded and attempted to smile.

I just wanted to enjoy driving her somewhere, riding in a car chatting like best friends do. That idea seemed nice. It worked out that my brother happened to have a nearby Little League game. I was excited to spend time with her and have a friend to visit with during the game. Neither of us really watched the baseball game. We chatted and carried on, except for the few times my brother was up to bat or actually on the field. Then, I'd make an attempt to show some support. Overall, I have no idea what we talked about or what was said. I don't recall that as much as I remember we talked, joked, and laughed. I remember the faces she made at me, and some of the playful slaps she gave me on the shoulder when I said something embarrassing or that she was pretending to be offended by. I was a typical goof. "You're such a dork!" was one of her favorite things to cheer as she slapped me and tried in futility not to laugh.

The warmth from that memory still finds me. It reminds me that our friendship was indeed authentic. I think back to that time, our travels to the mall, and our egg drop science project. I think back to how excited I was when she was finally able to attend a school dance. I smile at our adventures at Prom where we sat at the table together with our dates. I picked on her childishly about her boyfriend's lip rings. She in turn, could have picked on me about going with our friend's brother who just wanted a date as badly as I did. She and her boyfriend danced, while my "date" and I took pictures and goofed around the whole time. It was a surprisingly fun night. Our school photographers took my former friend and I's photo and included it in a Prom photo book. It is a nice memento that I have held onto throughout the years, and will continue to do so. Every so often, I'll pull that book out and reminisce fondly.

I'll remember our adventures with quiz-taking sites, and all the times we listened to our earbuds and talked about our musical interests together. Fall Out Boy was a usual choice for her along with her celebrity crush Pete Wentz. For my pick, it was usually My Chemical Romance along with my celebrity crush Gerard Way. We were both OBSESSED. We regularly discussed these obsessions, and thought of one another when we saw anything related to either. One year, she gave me a photo collage of printed out pictures of the MCR lead singer that I still own to this day. While I still look up to the man tremendously, it is because my friend gave it to me that I have kept this item.

I'll fondly remember that she, out of everyone in the class, laughed at my zombie slide at the end of my Forensic Pathologist career presentation that said "I see dead people." Our next assignment, ironically enough, would be to teach the rest of the class the chapter on "Blood" together. Our mutual friend once told her she resembled Halloween just as she told me I resembled D-Day with my attire. My friend, an emo/scene girl and me, a geeky goth. Of course she would want to use horror font for the "Blood" presentation, thereby adding to the weirdness vibe I had already created for us. The two of us were truly a cohesive team. We had a good time, and I'm sure that is etched in her memory as much as it is in mine should she choose to recall it.

We were birds of a feather, but not the same type of bird. Not all birds migrate, but most birds do fly. They have wings for a reason. Wherever she chooses to fly, I hope she soars. Although we may be different birds, different people, and in different places, the sky is no bounds for how I feel about our friendship or how she enriched my life with her presence. Life is about taking the good with the bad, and overall the good when it comes to our friendship will always outweigh the bad.

Author's note: This is a portion of a series, but is written with intention as a stand-alone piece if you do not proceed further. If you are interested in reading the first part of the series, click on the link below. I thank you for your support regardless of whether or not you proceed with this series. If this has caught your interest, know that in the coming weeks a continuation of this story will be added and updated. Thank you all for any and all support. <3