Blog Post #5

June 15, 2011

“We need to talk,” I said as I looked down at her waiting impatiently outside the bathroom door.

“I was going to say the same thing to you. Mind if we talk in here?” she replied as she pushed her way past me into the bathroom.

“No, not a problem at all…” Closing the door behind me I take a deep breath; I feel my whole body begin to shake as I slowly tempt fate, praying that the gods of friendship will take pity on me, and let me escape unscathed once more. “Wake up,” I tell myself… it’s now or never…

I look at her, sitting there peeing in front of me. I should be disgusted. Normal people would be disgusted. But we’ve been friends since we were eight years old. I’ve seen her when she was sick and coughing all over, when she was crying from her boyfriend breaking her heart–hell, I’ve seen her naked. This, is nothing. She’s my one of my closest friends..she always has been. At the end of every day, no matter if we were on speaking terms or not, I would drop everything to rescue her from whatever monster was attacking her. We were partners in crime, inseparable,  we double dated religiously when we dated two best friends; it was like a fairytale.

“Wake UP,” I urge myself. “It’s just Monica…. it isn’t a big deal…” I shake my head, looking back down at my shoes, my breathing slow and steady as I stand there, my back against the door.

“Look, whatever it is that you are holding against me, it needs to end.” I sound stronger than I feel; my heart is pounding in my throat as the alcohol begins to hit my already spinning head. I shake my head in an attempt to clear the fog, “Stay focused, Heather.”

“I don’t know what it is that you are holding against me, but I don’t have anything against you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She is baiting me.

I choose to take it.

“Monica, cut the shit. Seriously. You know what I’m talking about. You’ve been acting weird ever since we started hanging out again! You even invited me to the party tonight, only to ignore me. Ignore me! You wouldn’t even look at me!”

I invited you?”

This bitch wants to go.

My face immediately changes from one of sympathetic understanding with a hint of hopeful forgiveness to one of complete apathy. Fine, if this is how we’re going to play, I’ll play.

“Are you fucking joking, Mon? You know what, no, forget it. Whatever the fuck you have against me, it needs to stop. Right now. Because Lisa is being thrown in the middle and it’s not fair to her anymore.”

Lisa. The girl that has been my best friend and confidant since first grade. The three of us were so close growing up. Sure, there were times when two of us were closer with each other than with the third, but we were always friends. That was something that I never thought would change. But here we are, standing in a bathroom, two of us battling it out, as I throw out the third musketeers name in an attempt to salvage enough of what we once had to keep things civil.

“What the fuck are you talking about, I’m not throwing her in the middle.” The first stage is always denial.

“Really? Then how come when I wanted to leave the party, Lisa knew she couldn’t leave because you would throw a shit-fit?”

My bag on my shoulder, I was ready to go. I stood there waiting on the brick pathway that led to the gate– my escape–as I waited for Lisa to come back from the house. She walked outside, and I knew I had to be the one to break the news to her. We both knew it deep down; we’d been talking about it for weeks now. Monica would never let her live it down if she walked out with me. It would become the point in time known as the ‘breaking point’ in their friendship. The night Lisa officially chose me over her. It’s not that I didn’t want that. In many instances, I still do. But who am I to make her tempt the devil. She jumped off the last step and stepped up to me.

“Ready?”, she asked.

“Dude, you know you can’t leave right now. Not without her. If you do, you know she’ll see it as you choosing me over her.” The truth hurt her. I could see it in the way her chest dropped back and her shoulders lurched forward as if someone deflated the balloon in her chest.

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