Hoisted By Your Own Petard*
*A wonderful phrase I learned today in The English Novel, a class I’m taking.
This is long overdue, but I’d like to dedicate this status to my best friend, L.A.
For those of you who are new to A Day In The Life, my two best friends in the whole wide world are The Bestie and L.A.
The Bestie has been my best friend, literally, since before I can remember. I think our story would have turned out quite differently if I hadn’t marched up to her mother and asked, “Mrs.—–‘s Mom, can she come to my house tonight for Girl Scouts?” 5 yr old me was way braver than 20 yr old me.The Bestie and I have a very unique friendship. I like to believe that we’re 100% honest with each other, although I know that we each have our secrets and that sometimes we hold back information to protect the other. We are pretty opposite in most things, but we respect each other on a level that I’ve encountered with very few others. We’re also very similar(we’re talking identical twins similar here) in other aspects. We can go weeks without talking to each other(though that rarely happens) and pick up the phone and leave off where we left off. It’s pretty rad.
L.A. and I are a little more complicated. He moved to The Hill our Freshman year of high school. I had only been in the public schools there for about a year when I met him. Our first contact with one another(that I can recall) was when he instant messaged me on AIM(way back in the day) using my friend Flag Girl’s phone. He was apparently the new kid that had just moved into her neighborhood. We talked this way for quite a while before I actually figured out what face went with his screen-name. It turns out that he was that goofy kid sitting at the end of our lunch table that I didn’t know. Lol. I can’t really pin-point the moment we became good friends, let alone best friends. We slowly, over the course of a few years, became fairly inseparable.
We had our rough patches, but when he left for boot camp, I was pretty broken-hearted. I was pretty sure that was the last time I was going to see him. Luckily, his mom is a really wonderful lady. We came into contact with one another via Facebook and she kept me updated on how he was doing. Then he was out of boot camp and I slowly received more and more phone calls and texts. And then he left the military. And he moved to L.A. to be with his mom. And he needed a friend that could be a constant while he went through a great many changes. And somewhere along the line we realized that no matter how different we were and how many things were out of the ordinary about us being friends, there were few others we could talk to about our particular brands of broken.
I’ve never loved him more than I did the night he let me cry as I explained that I was severely depressed and had lost sight of why I kept going. He talked me through a lot of things that night and he told me things he had hidden in high school, things that we now found common ground in. He’s been a great support system for me, especially in the last year.
The last few weeks I’ve felt really broken again. I haven’t been taking care of myself and I’d been off of my medicine. I resented the possibility that I may need to take them the rest of my life in order to not make myself and the people around me miserable. He reminded me that there are people that love me and want what’s best for me and he listened, once again, as I got angry at the world and at myself. Then he told me to get my head on straight and start doing what I needed to do.
Thanks, L.A. I love you. And I’m always here to return the favor. 😉