In third grade, I had a best friend, we'll call her Ellen. Ellen was my everything: we used to call each other on the phone (talking about what??), have sleep overs, take baths together (this was before gayness was an issue and before we were aware of our bodies in -that- way), and play on her super nintendo game console.
I felt like she really completed my heart, quite literally.
I remember her mom one day giving her a small cupcake for me, so that Ellen and I could both eat the sweets together. She was such a nice lady... my mom wasn't one to be creative or bake anything, so it was always a treat when Ellen's mom would do this. We'd sit in the cafeteria, and she'd eat hers a lot faster, partially because I was a slow eater and partially because it was so good that I relished it.
Somewhere along the line I became too uncool for her tastes. Gone were the notes neatly folded in squares or triangles to pass to one another in the halls. Gone were the giggly whispers of glee where we'd laugh over nothing. Gone were the days of belting out "Rhythm of the Night" together. Gone were those great diminutive cupcakes. It was all gone because I'd been replaced.
Ellen had found a better best friend, a girl named Luann. Ellen and Luann had more in common than Ellen and I did. Their parents were the best of friends, they were both deeply religious and of the same faith, and they both had siblings they hated. And of course, they dressed similarly, whereas my over-sized shirts and baggy jeans reserved me to the hapless category of chopped liver, in an age where fitting in is everything. It was all very hard to accept, but accept it I did.
Fast forward to now and neither are great friends with one another, and I am acquaintances with both (thanks social networking!) They both lead your typical white girl life: husband, kids, work part-time,... So in a way, the disintegration of our friendship was inevitable, considering Ellen's life is everything that mine is not (and I do not really aspire for that lifestyle either).
And that is my first recollection of betrayal.
I felt like she really completed my heart, quite literally.
I remember her mom one day giving her a small cupcake for me, so that Ellen and I could both eat the sweets together. She was such a nice lady... my mom wasn't one to be creative or bake anything, so it was always a treat when Ellen's mom would do this. We'd sit in the cafeteria, and she'd eat hers a lot faster, partially because I was a slow eater and partially because it was so good that I relished it.
Somewhere along the line I became too uncool for her tastes. Gone were the notes neatly folded in squares or triangles to pass to one another in the halls. Gone were the giggly whispers of glee where we'd laugh over nothing. Gone were the days of belting out "Rhythm of the Night" together. Gone were those great diminutive cupcakes. It was all gone because I'd been replaced.
Ellen had found a better best friend, a girl named Luann. Ellen and Luann had more in common than Ellen and I did. Their parents were the best of friends, they were both deeply religious and of the same faith, and they both had siblings they hated. And of course, they dressed similarly, whereas my over-sized shirts and baggy jeans reserved me to the hapless category of chopped liver, in an age where fitting in is everything. It was all very hard to accept, but accept it I did.
Fast forward to now and neither are great friends with one another, and I am acquaintances with both (thanks social networking!) They both lead your typical white girl life: husband, kids, work part-time,... So in a way, the disintegration of our friendship was inevitable, considering Ellen's life is everything that mine is not (and I do not really aspire for that lifestyle either).
And that is my first recollection of betrayal.
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