The Pickle Jar

It all started with a friendship to seeing a friend move on in life. While moving they were giving me and my friends items that they did not want.

“Would you like it?”

“No.”

“Would you like it?”

“No.”

“Would you like it…?”

I stood there absolutely excited to accept it, it was a jar of pickles, not just any kind of pickles, they were the sweet pickles that nobody wanted.

“Yes, I will take them.”

I was happy that I obtained a jar of sweet pickles because they brought back memories of when I ate them with my father when I was younger.

The pickles sat on my desk for a few days when I decided that they should go into my fridge. I would often forget about the pickles and after about 2 weeks I remembered that they existed.

Opening up the jar of sweet pickles while watching my favorite show on my phone at 9pm was the best day of my week. I ate half of that jar of sweet pickles that day, I ate them until I knew it was time to stop.

A few days later I returned to the jar of pickles but something wasn’t right, they tasted strange. It wasn’t the pickles, it was just me. I had too many of them and I actually didn’t know when to stop, so they just got old to me. The Jar of pickles is lying in my fridge, still untouched from the last time I opened them.

I feel a connection to these pickles. When I hang out with friends too much the people tend to get old. Nothing new about them, nothing to talk about. But at the same time the pickles remind of of how I have friends that I don’t talk to enough, and they are just sitting there waiting for something to happen. And sometimes I just feel like a pickle in the pickle jar. I am living in an area with too many people and even though people go away, it still feels like a lot. I am bored about life but at the same time life is too sweet for me. My whole life I was brough up as a spoiled girl who got everything that she wanted, thats where the sweet part comes in, but I am just a pickle withering away in a jar now.

The jar of pickles only has a few left floating at the bottom, and you could relate that to life. When you get older your friends seem to slim down from when you had multiple friend groups in middle school and high school, but for me, me and my few pickles for friends that I have are just great, no one wants us to participate in crazy activities, atleast we are not invited to do so, and everyone stays away from us.

I am happy that I live in this pickle jar with my pickles for friends. Even though this is not home, they make me feel like I am wanted in this place.

So yes, I can relate this jar of pickles to so many things, I can do that with anything that I could put my mind to. But what is so special about this jar of pickles? It was given to me by a friend and I made memories with this damn pickle jar. Crazy, huh? I never knew that I could somehow relate a jar of pickles to my life.

-Kay, Xe, Ryan, Nate, and Christian - you all made a difference in my life, thank you for being in it.