On one of my best friend’s born day, I called to talk about a personal problem and those congratulatory words of “Happy Birthday” never entered the conversation. True to her friendship, she listened and wished me well. A few days later, I realized she never mentioned, hinted or questioned my forgetfulness about her special day.
She’s the friend I discuss revolving problems at three in the morning. We talk countless hours on the phone. Other than my parent’s home number, I remember her phone number. My boyfriend frequently quizzes me about his number (the last four digits occasionally perplex my memory).
The first time we met, she was this bright girl with a warm smile sitting at our cafeteria table. She was a ‘new girl’ in orchestra with my other best friends who introduced us. I was a ‘cool kid’ cheerleader who dismissed this girl with a mickey mouse fan club voice and a Jheri curl hairstyle. As we exchanged pleasantries, I made a mental note to talk with my familiar girlfriends about being careful of inviting certain people to our table. Two years later, “mickey mouse” had stolen the affection of my high school crush. Read more
