Once upon a time, there was a quiet girl named Amy. Amy wasn’t particularly pretty, or wealthy, or popular, but her personality was addictive. She drew people in with her wit and humor, and no matter how much you felt like outcast, around Amy you were the most normal person in the world. Around her, you’re on top of the world. Could do anything, could be anyone. Important. Wanted. Needed. Best Friends Forever. Only you weren’t. Because Amy, behind the mask of confidence and happiness, was broken inside, just a little, and no one noticed. Until one day you were blown off. No big deal, you figured, something came up. Only it happens again. And again. And again. In the back of your head you realize something’s wrong, but push the thought away. Because you’re Best Friends. BFF’s. Until the end of time and beyond. You might have only known her for a year, but it feels like forever. Suddenly, out of nowhere, it happens. She disappears. All forms of communications are cut off. A week goes by. The next time you see her, she’s chatting away with her new best friend, a girl you vaguely recognize as one of your old friends, easily discarded after you had met Amy. You walk over, but neither seems interested in hanging out. This happens over and over again, before it finally gets through your head. You and Amy are no longer friends. You spend weeks agonizing over it, trying to figure out what you did wrong. Why it ended so suddenly. Did you forget to text her back? Not answer the phone fast enough? Were to mean about her new boyfriend? Why were you no longer worthy? You just don’t understand. So you do some digging. Find out, contrary to what you had assumed, you were not her first best friend. That she had had tons of them, none lasting longer than a year or two. After that she breaks it off, seemingly for no reason. Only there is a reason. Not because of you, like you thought, but because of her. Because she is incapable of trusting someone, incapable of staying committed to someone, and as soon as she realizes who deep in she is, she runs. She’ll never be truly happy, too busy running from possible betrayals, terrified of getting too close, and leaving trails of destruction in her wake. She sucks you in like a black hole, sweeping you away from your dependable, if bland, friends. She’s a whirlwind of excitement, a breath of fresh air, but when she spits you back out, you’re a mess of worry and anger and self-loathing. Then she does it again. Picks another weird, smart loner who wants to feel alive. And their wish is granted, as their whisked away into the paradox that is Amy. Confident, but terrified. Kind, yet cruel. Amazing, but completely, utterly horrible. And as you attempt to put your life back together, despite the overwhelming hatred you feel toward the girl who brought this terrible anguish on you, you still can’t help loving her, just a little. Because Amy, for all her flaws, is still the best friend you’ve ever had, and likely ever will have. And you’re never getting over her.