The morning was more gray than I felt it should have been for Spring in North Carolina. It wasn’t that the sun was covered up or that any storm was brewing in the distance, I realized; it was that she was leaving me. She was walking out the door in a few hours and I may never see her again, or at least, it may be years before any kind of reunion. When did life suddenly happen? Weren’t we both freshman in high school just a few days ago? I knew it had really been years, but on a day like today memories like that seemed so much closer. They had moved from the back burners in my mind and come splashing in front of my eyes in vivid color, like a series of emotional movies that left my heart both full and empty all at the same time. How had it come to this? Weren’t we going to grow old together and start our own zoo after traveling the world? Hadn’t we said “screw marriage and kids; Our friendship is more than enough”?
“Dang it, Sarah! You have gone and ruined everything!” I screamed out loud.
It was mid December and the ground was covered in a slushy white substance we southerners liked to call snow. Sarah and I had just graduated from University last Summer and after several months of saving up together we had finally managed to get that “dream apartment” we had always talked about together. In reality it was a run down little mess in a section-8 part of town, but it was our little mess and we were happy with it. What mattered is that we both had four year degrees, jobs, our own cars, and we were no longer living with our parents. Whenever I got down about not having more Sarah would look at me and remind me of this fact and finish with her famous statement, “Kit, it’s the little things in life.” She was ever the optimist and it was part of the reason I loved her so much. She was good for me in ways I couldn’t always find words for.
Sarah always pushed me to do things I never thought I could do before and she spent much of her time looking for the silver-lining in every situation. I, however, was almost the exact opposite. I was so selfish at times I couldn’t see the silver-lining in anything if it was flashed right in front of my face. I could spend hours on a rainy day curled up in a dark corner at home ignoring other people and reading a book. I was perfectly happy being a hermit and only going places if it were just Sarah and I. It’s not that I didn’t love getting out. Traveling was actually a huge passion of mine. I just didn’t feel the need to share those experiences with anyone but my best friend. Sarah, on the other hand, was a huge extrovert. She thrived off of group outings and loved getting involved in every type of community event that had the words “art” or “dance” in them. I would probably never choose to be involved in any of that stuff on my own but she always managed to talk me into it with those big puppy-dog brown eyes of hers. It drove me a little bit crazy, but her enthusiasm for life was contagious, so I usually ended up enjoying it all in spite of myself.
“Kit, you have to get out and meet new people every now and then and experience new things.” Sarah told me matter-of-factly. “We should never stop growing as individuals.”
“That may be true, Sarah, but it doesn’t mean I always have to like it.” I grumbled back.
(This is a very small glimpse of a story I recently wrote for my Creative Writing Workshop. Let me know if you’d like to read the whole thing. I’d appreciate the feedback and constructive criticism.)