War by Lyla Ashry

Posted on May 20, 2013 by

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I saw her the other day. My ex-best friend, I mean. It was crazy that it happened to be on graduation day that I would see her, although I didn’t exactly MEET her there. It was one of those dramatic moments when you’re walking and talking to someone, and you see that person out of the corner of your eye and think ‘wait a second…’ Then you turn your head in a split second to see if it’s who you think it is. What was even more amazing was that she happened to turn her head towards me at the same time, and at that moment I felt as though she was thinking the same thing as me, like ‘is it really her?’, and her facial expression emulated that very thought.

Seeing that look on her face brought me so close to bursting with a ‘yeah, it’s ME, bitch!’ without wanting to wait for her reply, and then just walking away with a winning smile, but that would never happen, because I was never meant to win in the first place.

I’m sure she saw me while I was walking through the auditorium to receive my diploma, and it bothered me to see her sitting with the audience, cheering for other graduating students when I was RIGHT THERE. It almost killed me, like she was doing it on purpose and wanted to hurt me more than she already has.

What really annoyed me was that I saw her pictures all over Facebook and whatsapp a few days later. Don’t get me wrong; she isn’t my friend on Facebook any more than she’s on my contact list. It’s just that my current classmates all happen to be friends with her, and I’m the only one who’s not. The only reason that I haven’t tossed her out the side of a plane or burned her to a stake yet is because the whole universe has suddenly become the demilitarized zone, and I, the one on the black list. It doesn’t make much sense, but it sometimes feels like people are purposely inviting her to places where I am just to rile me up and see my reaction, which would probably be to rip her to shreds. Though, it’s too bad it hasn’t happened yet, because somehow, due to my uncanny good luck, I have managed to avoid her for the past two years since we fell apart.

I can’t completely escape her presence in my life. It’s as though her life is melded into mine; like our lives were meant to interlope with each other.

It burns me, knowing that we could have still been best friends if she hadn’t done what she did, but I would never want her back after that. It would be the dumbest thing to do in this situation.

I sometimes think that someone sent her to me to change me into a different person–someone bitter and angry with everything–and that she did her job with five stars. she could get paid to do that, I bet—breaking peoples hearts. In my case, It was silent work for her, breaking me down and picking out the necessary bits a little at a time while making sure I wouldn’t notice what was being done behind my back all that time. Of course, I was an easy target, so it worked for her in the end. I am embarrassed to admit that I was too blind to see that she was throwing me like a bowling ball down an alley, and the only thing left to happen was for me to crash, and crash I did. she won the fight in the end, and got away seemingly unscathed, then transferred to a different school. Mission break-a-heart accomplished. She left her mark on me to be remembered forever.

It aches knowing that I don’t hate her, and even more so that I couldn’t get back at her for what she did to me. She dehumanized me, and turned me into someone who I was not. She broke the real me to pieces, and I still haven’t managed to find the right parts– still searching for who I once was.

It’s not like it was a first time thing, or that I hadn’t been hurt before though— oh, no. I had one too many experiences to count, but what made her different was that we were both lonely when we met, and missing someone to welcome us with open arms; someone to care. I thought that we had found that in each other when shared feelings and secrets that we would reveal to no other. She became my everything and I supposedly hers… Guess not.

I knew her so well back then– and still do, so it didn’t make much sense when I would find out too often that she really knew nothing about me… And perhaps I should be happy she didn’t, because that would have made it much easier for her to ruin me. I learned my lesson the hard way— in which you hear it from another but never understand it until you experience it yourself—that your best friend could very well transform into your worst enemy.

And yet I still can’t help wondering if I ever meant anything to her, and why she wanted to hurt me in the first place. Some tell me it was jealousy, and that she couldn’t handle being near me when I was all she ever wanted to be, while some would say she was a mean person at heart… I personally believe that she was sent on a con mission to break my heart, but I digress. So, if all of that is true, then she will go through the same feeling soon enough, because karma is a bitch that pays you back a hundred times over. I don’t doubt that she will learn her lesson soon enough and understand that the heart is no game to play.

Someday I’ll find someone better that appreciates the value of a friend, and that I can learn to forget her, but not the experience I gained from meeting her. When I do, I will become the champion– the one to forgive, and forget.

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