“Did you hear? No? Oh my god. I cannot believe you haven’t heard! She got so smashed last weekend…it was ridiculous. I wish you could have been there. No, I wasn’t that drunk. I did hook up with that guy from math, though. Girl, you need to come party with me some time! It’s so much fun!”
Really? Is it? I guess I wouldn’t know. This is weird.
Since when did she party? Over the summer we talked about how overrated it is, how college, sports, school and family mean so much—why risk it? But it’s her choice, right? It’s not my place to tell her what to do. But why? Why does she feel the need to do that to herself? Is it fun? Not knowing what you’re doing and who you’re kissing and what you’re saying? Does it make life great? I’m so confused. I just don’t understand. Will I ever understand? “Maybe when you’re older,” Mom said.
I don’t need alcohol to have fun—why do they? We were supposed to hang out last weekend…we planned it earlier in the week. But now it’s Monday, and I hear all these rumors about who she hooked up with and how her hair was held back by that girl in my gym class while she threw up. Was it fun? Being there without me? Am I loser now? Not good enough to be seen with…‘cause I’m sober? Does it mean we can’t hang out anymore? “No, we can still hang out. Let’s study next weekend,” she said. So now I’m the study buddy and not the best friend. I guess I don’t deserve to hear who you hooked up with and why—‘cause wouldn’t get it, right?
Right. I don’t get it. Come Monday, I see you, that feeling of innate superiority splashed across your features. It’s like a big neon sign that reads “I’m better than Melissa.” So, you’re better now that you’ve been drunk?
Maybe you are…Wait. No. You’re not. Right?
Dad, what is wrong with me? I don’t understand. I want so much from my life. I just don’t see the point in partying. Why am I feeling outcast? What did I do wrong? I’m still her friend, right? I mean…it has been awhile since she and I have hung out, but partying doesn’t change everything, does it? “I don’t know, Melissa. Only time will tell. As long as you are there for her, nothing can change.”
But, Dad, you are wrong. Everything has changed. It’s junior year, and she and I aren’t speaking. Yeah, I say “hi” to her in the halls or wave to her when we see each other downtown. But is that it? All I deserve? What happened to late night talks, girls night out, sleepovers and nicknames? I was replaced, wasn’t I?
Replaced by drugs, alcohol, and sex. Replaced by new friends. Replaced by a lifestyle that seems to make it impossible to maintain sober friendships. I tried, and I lost. I lost our friendship, I lost you.
Is it my fault? Did I drive you away? No, I didn’t. I haven’t gone anywhere. I didn’t push you—you walked away.
You walked away from me. From us. It was your choice. I was there for you when everything sucked. Yet time and time again you chose to party. You chose them, not me. Now—now—you don’t even want to hang out.
Where do we go from here? Am I just not fun, now? Cracking jokes and playing pranks and just hanging out isn’t good enough.
Okay, I will have to deal with that in my own way. But know this: No matter what I say, I’m still standing here. Here, in the same place that you left me, when you walked away.
It was always your choice.