When we were friends, her life and her family seemed perfect. Her house was perfect. She had graphic design pens when we were in fourth grade. i was so fucking jealous of those pens. Her family was extremely wealthy, her father being a well-known graphic designer. She had a sink in her bedroom where she kept her little compact toothbrush and toothpaste set. Everything was white and spotless. it was like magic, you would walk in and even if you had muddy feet, the floor would shine a brilliant white anyhow. The staircase was lined with pictures of her family, which should have been in a magazine. the smiling parents, the two little blonde girls and their 8 rosy cheeks. Her mom was the embodiment of Martha Stewert. You know the "Good Things" section in Living? /all/ of those little crafts were done. They had the Polish trees, the homemade goodies in the little boxes for a treat when you visited, the little herb gardens. Everything.

When we were in 5th grade, she wanted to play a game where she was the father and i was the mother. She wanted to put a playing card between our lips so we could "pretend to kiss." The intensity of that experiance frightened me so much. not because we were both girls, but because i had just turned 10, and was definatly not ready to be sexual in any way. i did it anyway, not wanting to make her upset - after all, it was just one time, just one game. One weekend we went to her cabin in the San Juan islands, and she wanted to play it again. when i said "no... i dont want to do this" she became furious with me, and made me promise never to tell anyone about it. our entire relationship changed after that. in the months following, she became a different person entirely, somebody i didnt want to be friends with. trying to be something she wasnt, a habit that i despise.

we saw each other on and off throughout middle school. she /really/ wanted to be a part of my school experiance. she kept on applying and applying to Northwest but never got in. one day, in 7th grade, she came over to my house to do some beading. she hugged my mom. i became so upset. /nobody/ hugs my mom, or at least they didnt then. i didnt even. she didnt like to be "touchy feely" as she put it. i was so mad at her for crossing that line that i was rude to her for the next half hour, and then i told her she needed to go home. she asked why, and i said "because you creep me out and i dont want you in my house anymore."

She was accepted to my school in 9th grade. i was exceptionally cruel to her. i didnt speak to her, i didnt look at her, i wanted nothing to do with her. she wore an inch of makeup every day. she was... wrong. poseable. fake. there's no other way to say it. she wasnt being herself, and i was so goddamn mad about it. she didnt show up to school one day, the day that we got our science partners for mousetrap cars. i complained to my teacher, "you dont understand. i cant be her partner. it will be terrible for both of us." but of course, he said "Maybe this project can help you work out your differences!"

She never showed up at school again after that. nobody knew what happened, but a while later, it was found out that she had been anorexic and anemic, and was hospiltalized. i also found out later that her perfect family wasnt so perfect after all. her parents had /serious/ problems, too serious to talk about here. she was pushed to be so perfect, pushed so far that she crashed and i only helped. i was so mean to her, and i still havent forgiven myself for that.