Remember My Name

Eight months ago everything was different. I felt different than I do now, I thought different, and everything I knew was different. 

High school was like entering a whole other world; almost like starting middle school all over again. Everyone goes around cooing at the itty-bitty freshmen and letting them know exactly where they stand in the high school hierarchy: the bottom. 



I didn't know who I was going to be at the end of the year, and I didn't know who I was going to have with me.

I was determined to go back into the swing of hanging out with you and being best friends this year. It started off fine. We had a class together and lunch, but you insisted on eating in the hallway instead of in the cafeteria where I was. You said that you just liked the hallway better; that the cafeteria was too crowded. I thought the cafeteria was fine, so I ate there with my friends and you ate in the hallway with yours.



At first, you eating in the hallway didn't bother me much. After I was done eating, I would just go and sit down with you and the friends you ate lunch with. But then I started to notice things. That while I was in the group you had going on, I wasn't in it.

I didn't understand the inside jokes that flew around and when I asked what they meant, it just got shrugged off as nothing, or I had to be there to understand. It made me feel like I wasn't apart of the group and I couldn't get that feeling of slight seperation out of my body.



It made my throat go tight whenever I heard a friend and you talking about how much fun you had while over at so and so's house over the summer; it made my head spin whenever you didn't choose me as your partner in the only class we had together.

And I get it: she asked first and it's rude to say no. But wasn't it enough that you two were already sitting next to each other? I couldn't understand then, because I still thought I was your best friend. I was trying to hold on to something that wasn't mine.



I would talk to you about how I felt. About how I felt like I was being left out in conversations and blah, blah, blah. And then by texting it out everything would suddenly be okay again, but it never really was. The same signs kept popping up and the same feeling came running back.

It was around the start of December when I really started feeling upset and I decided that I had to stop pretending and let you know.

It was the worse mistake I could have ever made.