I met Kristen the summer before second grade. We were both practicing riding two wheelers on the sidewalk in front of the Cromwell High School. Feeling daring as ever I rode over the curb, but only to fall off and scrape my leg on the blacktop. Kristen looked on as I sobbed; her arms crossed and said, “That’s what you get for being a showoff.” Neither of us knew we would become best friends, and I didn't know how much of an impact she would have on my life.

I remember all of my memories with Kristen in nearly perfect detail. Our friendship really took off when we were assigned to the same second grade class. On weekends we would have tea parties with our American Girl Dolls and pretend we were their parents. In the summer, we would cool off on the slip and slide and in the public pool: there we swam until our fingers turned to prunes. Even then I knew the connection the two of us shared. That friendship stayed strong through the years because we were in the same fourth and fifth grade classes. We were truly inseparable.


The summer before seventh grade Kristen had definitely changed. Whenever we would hang out at my house or hers, she would isolate herself to read books. I would be pushed away to hang with our sisters. It hurt and that pain still lingers. I heard about her plans with other friends, and it was evident that she was more enthusiastic around them. Was I boring? Did she like them better? That summer she had gone to camp and met a new friend who she really liked. Other friends were introduced to her. I was never was.

Kristen had gotten into a fight with one of our friends before school was dismissed for
summer break and I had taken her side. Still our group struggled to rebuild the friendships that had been affected. That first month of seventh grade was especially challenging for me. Kristen was making new friends: girls I just couldn’t connect with. One day I asked Kristen to save me a seat at her new table, and she was excited because we hadn’t sat at the same table all year. When I came to lunch, there was one seat left, and I thought it was for me. About to sit down, Kristen stopped me and said it was for one of her friends. She said, “I’m really sorry Holly but I haven’t sat with her in four days.” I just whispered, “I haven’t sat with you all year.” At that point the mix of pain and anger were overwhelming me. I turned away not wanting anyone to see the tears that were flooding my eyes. I left my other friends for her, when she needed me. Because that’s what best friends do right? It was obvious that my best friend wasn’t about to support me. Over the next week I stopped sitting with Kristen on the bus and I ignored her. That weekend was Katie’s, Kristen’s sisters, birthday party at the roller rink. And I would have to talk to Kristen.



At the party Kristen’s friend from camp was there: all the other girls knew her but me. It might have been okay if I was introduced but I wasn’t. I spent the party skating alone or with my brother. It was truly humiliating. I felt like a new student in a school where no one cared to be my friend. When my mom came to pick us up I sprinted for the door. The embarrassment burned in my face. I was done. Our friendship was over. At home I cried for hours. Never had I been so betrayed.



I didn’t talk to Kristen at all the next week. That week turned into a month. And that month turned into six months. I believed that she would talk to me, beg me to forgive her, and most importantly apologize. All I really wanted was an apology. She has never apologized. Inside I was struggling, missing her friendship, and having someone to talk to. But I couldn’t let her see it. I pretended that I didn’t care, that she no longer meant anything to me. She bought the act. But I couldn’t really see her pain either. I now realize she did care.


I was able to get through the loss of my best friend but since then I’ve not found a friend I've had the same connection to as with her. We are in ninth grade. She is the old Kristen. The Kristen I used to remember. Although she hurt me a few years ago I once again see her as an amazing person. But we still are not friends: being friends now is too forced. I think I’m too stubborn to fully move on. Whenever I see her something comes over me, as if I’m putting a wall between us. She can tell too. I wish I could tell her how badly I want to be friends again. Not just friends but best friends. It doesn’t feel right any other way. I wonder what she would think if she knew that nearly three years later I still cry over losing her friendship.

But what bothers me most now is all the false hope she gives me. She says she wants to hang out. Go to six flags, the movies; just get to know each other again. Then why don’t we? If she really wanted to be with me she should invite me over. She needs to be the one putting the pieces back together, not me. At the same time I feel we are both at fault and I need to forgive her.

Forgiveness. I lost the strongest relationship I had thus far in my life because I was unable to forgive Kristen. If I talked to her and told how I felt maybe these past few years would have been different. Everyone deserves a second chance, and Kristen deserves one with me. It may be a little late but I believe that we can overcome the past, even if it means some awkward bus rides. It is bittersweet walking into school together and until we make a change I won't be able to fully move on. We met seven years ago and rode our bike together over that same school sidewalk we now walk across every morning, separated.