(the links to the other sides of the story can be found at the bottom of the page. Thanks for reading.) (Collaboration with Erika, Raffy, Ayrish and Pearl.)
It amuses me how stupid people can be when it comes to the big ‘L’ word. If only they could open their eyes.
She has been my best friend since we were in diapers. We grew up together, went to the same school, walked home together, and all that stuff that little girls do growing up. When we got older, we started talking about other girls behind their backs, and laughing about the ugly shirt that one girl wore. We exchanged friendship bracelets, let each other borrow our clothes, shoes, and whatnot. To make a long story short, we were the best of friends. I was always fiercely protective of her, and I was the first among us to use a curse word; I called someone a ‘bitch’ because she had pulled Pearl’s hair.
Then we got into college, and of course everything changed.
There was a guy who was in the same year we were in. He was practically our university’s ‘Golden Boy’; campus heartthrob, Mr. Popular, everything. He probably got the same attention as ‘The Boy Who Lived’, only I know that the only person he would save is himself.
I have never liked this kind of guy, and I (thought I) knew she didn’t like boys like him, either. I was surprised when she told me she was totally head over heels in love with him. I’m normally very vocal with my feelings, and I would have told her to just give up already, but… I could tell she really loved him. And I’ll be damned if I ruin it for her.
Who knows? Maybe she’ll get something out of this.
But secretly, I hoped she wouldn’t. As she watched him from afar, I watched him, as well. Only I was looking at the other things. Like how he would have lunch with a different girl every other week. Or how he would shower girls with presents one week, and then I’d see the same girl crying her eyes out in the bathroom.
Honestly. I haven’t even talked to him once, and he’d managed to piss me off unintentionally without even coming in contact with me. I shall take lines from one of Taylor Swift’s hits, and say that “I knew he was trouble when he walked in.”
But I can see it in her eyes; love truly is blind. All she can talk about is how nice his hair looks, and how brown his eyes look like in the light, and how handsome he is… I endured it all, her worship of his so-called perfect character. Of course, I tried telling her once or twice… Or five times… About the other stories of other girls, but well, she didn’t listen.
I decided to leave the issue alone then, but something happened. She became his latest victim. I never should have brought her to that bar.
It was one of our classmates birthday, and she had decided to celebrate it at a bar. Among the two of us, I’m more of a party goer. I’m not an alcoholic, but I drink… occasionally. At first, she didn’t want to go, but I pushed her. So, I guess I can say that I literally pushed her into destiny’s path. (But then again, she had never believed in destiny.)
I’ll say it quickly so that I don’t have to dwell over it; I got drunk and I lost track of her. Once. But the next time I saw her, she was with him. It didn’t register much in my drunken mind, to be honest, and from the texts I received from her (and read the night after), I knew that she was safely home… and had been walked home by the infamous Carri Grant.
One thing led to another, things I don’t even want to know about, but the next thing I knew, you had texted me, ‘I SAID YES!’. A tight smile and ‘congrats’ was the only thing I could offer to them as she brought him up to me, her eyes shining like they always had, so in love. He looked cool, looking like he had just won another battle… I was disgusted with him. He wasn’t even looking at her, damn it. I. Did. Not. Support. This. But what could I do? My best friend was happy. She deserved it. And for once, maybe she could get it.
I was the observer, always the observer, and it has always been that way. However, I failed to realize what it would mean to be the best friend of the Golden Boy’s newest girlfriend. She faded away from me, but I wasn’t afraid of the consequences. As the time she dedicated to him increased, I thought, no matter how bad it sounds, that she would be back in a week or two, and I’d be her best friend again. Everything would become normal again, and then we wouldn’t have to talk about him anymore. (I was waiting patiently for those moments. I missed our old times.)
I started to get worried when a week turned into two, and then into a month. That month turned into two, three, four, and then seven… I, like everyone else, was shocked at this progress. He had never had a girlfriend for this long. In spite of my jealousy; I felt a sense of pride – Pearl had changed him. I knew the girl who had changed this notorious playboy. It seemed true; he had met the girl he had fallen head over heels in love with. He had met someone who he could actually commit to.
Or maybe not.
I don’t even know her name, I don’t know what school she’s from, but I couldn’t care less. All I know is that she would be the reason of one of many sleepless nights. Honestly, I don’t know who I’d like to hit more, that slut, or the bastard who should’ve avoided this situation in the first place.
It fell apart; it was already clear that there were no other words that needed to be said. I was lucky (if you could really call it that) to have been there as well. If I wasn’t there, Pearl might have done something really drastic.
But that’s what friends are for. Being there through good times and bad, and not saying ‘I told you so’. I’ll kill him, (both of them, if time allows) but not yet. I have a job to do, and I’m finally at peace with myself.
At least I have finally been heard.
Author’s note: This story has accompaniments. There are five parts, and the part I am playing now is the part of the poor girl’s best friend. I take this part close to heart, because I have been this friend before.
Hopefully, you will never experience the pains that come with being cheated on.