About The Curly Haired Introvert

Mistaken Identity

I thought I saw her today. The same girl I thought waved to me in the hallway once. Only to realize that her people were behind me. I use to be her people. 

When I saw her I wanted to cry. Not reunite. I wanted one of us to disappear, so I moved to another aisle. I ran my fingers over the plush toys that were there and held back my tears. I didn't understand why she was there working on the opposite end of Tezel Road.

It wasn't her. I felt so silly, but, my eyes thought it was her. This girl of mistaken identity had her exact side face profile, and she was older. Too old to be my best friend from middle school. Too close to home to be the girl who left me in high school. The girl who left me was an ambitious know-it-all who got herself a scholarship out of town.

I use to think I was a bad friend, and maybe I was. Maybe I punched her shoulder one too many times. Maybe I thought her mom was too hard on her and shouldn't have expressed it. Maybe I was jealous that she could write poetry and I couldn't. Maybe it hurts to know that all my friends were hers first and foremost. Maybe I was too relieved to have a friend to go to high school with because that wasn't the case when I made it to middle school. When my social anxiety kicked in. When I started to hate myself. Maybe things were supposed to get better. Be better.

I wasn't expecting to be made into a memory. I never suspected that I would have to watch her walk away with new friends in tow. I was expecting, with hope, that I wouldn't be left behind again.

I thought she was going to text me back. I thought I would get over the anxiety of seeing her family because I would get used to seeing them. I thought she was going to introduce me to her first boyfriend. I thought that, like in middle school, she would read me her acceptance letters. I thought I wouldn't be just another body in the crowd to her on graduation day. I fucking thought I meant more.

I thought so many things because I didn't want to lose her. I thought so many things because she meant so more to me than I meant to her. I fucking thought so many things because that's how my anxiety trained me. I fucking thought she would be there when I couldn't breathe because there were too many people in the hallway. I fucking thought she would be there smiling at me in the stairwell because I thought that's what friends did. I fucking thought she would be there to force me on another roller coaster when my comfort zone started gripping me too tight again.

I hoped for so damn much, but now I have to write her instead of you because it hurts too damn much otherwise. I have to distance myself just as I distance myself from everybody and everything else because I don't know how not to. I never want to see her again because I never want to feel the way I did this morning when I thought I saw her an ran away.

I can't have this hurt consuming me. I have to get away. Dear God, please don't let her see me. Mom, please hurry up before she sees me. Dear God, please don't break my heart again. Don't let her break my heart again. Don't break my heart again. If she sees me- I have to go.

I thought to myself, I wouldn't be reacting this way if it wasn't her, but I thought wrong. It wasn't her. It was an ordinary CVS employee. It wasn't the first of several heartbreaks to come. It was only a case of mistaken identity that took place on the opposite end of Tezel Road. 

February 3, 2019

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So there you have it. A little more of my emotional baggage. I guess this goes out to those who have felt the same.

To the girl who broke my heart. To the girl, I intentionally didn't say happy birthday to last year, so that I could see if she would say it too me one week and a day later. She didn't. If she had, then I would have apologized. That was the plan. All I needed was for her to give me one last bit of hope, and I would have apologized for everything.

This goes out to the bad friends with good hearts. The ones that stay stubborn in their grief but still love endlessly despite it. The ones who didn't know how to do it right but had every intention to try. This especially goes out to the ones who didn't get their chance to turn things around and so dearly wish they could have.

This goes out to all who have known the loss of a friend. We all know it hurts, no matter how it goes down.