Dedicated to My B.F.F. - a Story I'll Never Forget | Teen Ink

Dedicated to My B.F.F. - a Story I'll Never Forget

October 6, 2008
By e.nadeem PLATINUM, Karachi, Other
e.nadeem PLATINUM, Karachi, Other
37 articles 0 photos 8 comments

The memory that clouds over five years of my life still sits clear and lucid in me. It’s so dark; it’s hard to see it . . . yet maybe that is because I don’t want to remember those days. Well, the first two years were probably the best years of my life ever . . . but what followed is what I never would have thought of in my wildest imaginations back then . . .

I still remember it – the first day of fifth grade, so long ago. I was new in that class, and oblivious to recognizing any of the small number of five girls save me, out of a total of twenty students, in my class. I was shy, I was nervous, and most of all, excited. I wondered if I would make any new friends; I had to after all, spend a whole year with these people.
My eyes had swept all of the girls. Three of them had settled in and were whispering excitedly; two of the others were standing by the back wall, a little apart from each other, sneaking glances around every once in a while. It was the one with the long hair that grabbed my attention. As I stood in the doorway, awkwardly looking around, she caught my eye and smiled warmly. I smiled back nervously. I still remember now, even though it’s embarrassing, what my first thought was. I looked at her and I thought, “Her hair are just like a Barbie’s.” I know it’s silly of me, but that was all those years ago!

Days passed, and I got to know the entire people well. There was this one girl who had made friends with the long-haired one. The long haired one is called E.J. The other one, I’ll name her A.B. to respect her privacy. Well, they both had become close friends amongst each other. I was sort of enemies with A.B. in the beginning, but when our class teacher changed our seating arrangement, I was made to sit with A.B. It was a horrible time at first, because we argued so much. Slowly, we became close friends, then best friends. This strengthened my amity with E.J. greatly. We three had become an inseparable trio. Thus, even now as I remember, fifth grade was the best year of my life.

Sixth grade. The class was shuffled again, and yet again I was unfamiliar to everyone except for E.J. I was ecstatic to be with my best friend once more. I knew I looked forward to another awesome year. Yet, there was trouble. There were people in our class, we, being new at that time, disliked. They disliked us as much. Then this other girl, who I’ll name I.B. to respect her privacy, extended her hand in friendship to me, which I readily took, elated. I remember so clearly how every day I had to listen to E.J. telling me about how badly she hated I.B. and vice versa. I was fed up. I remember, the rain, after so many months. I was walking alongside E.J. and I.B., which was uncommon, because they detested each other. They were both whispering in my ear to ditch the other, and hang out with them; they were never comfortable talking to me openly. Then, I was so irritated – of course – that I blurted out “How can I be best friends with both of you when you both hate each other?” It was so awkward then. I heard I.B. excuse herself. E.J. rounded on me as soon as she had gone: “She hates me, too?” After recess, I.B. cornered me and asked me, “Why does she hate me? Is that true?” I was beyond surprised; shouldn’t it have had been obvious?
It was an awkward year then. I retained my friendship with E.J.; yet something had changed between us. We both knew, deep inside, that things were not the same. However, our smiles, phone calls, secrets, and vitally of all, trust remained intact. We pretended that everything was just the way as it had been for two years.

Seventh grade.
Deep breaths was what I told myself every moment. Everything IS just the way it is; nothing is different, nothing at all. . .
But was that so? A nagging at the back of my head used to press.
Not really. I.B. and I became really close friends, and E.J. minded. Like a lot. She advised me to ditch I.B. I did not take that suggestion too kindly though. I retorted that I could have as many friends as I wanted, and that I should not be limited to one.
Then there were the fights. Another fight every other day, about every small thing. There were tears shed. There came a time when we talked only through “letters.” Long ago, or so it had seemed then, we had started this tradition of our own, where we would write each other a letter every night, telling each other about our day. It was like we were both each others’ diaries. I was elated to have that honor; I had never had a better friend.
Yet, we fought. We fought on everything; we would not talk to other for days. It was a terrible time. Mostly our arguments were about I.B. interfering. It felt to her as though I stored more trust in I.B. then in her. However I.B. remained indifferent to our fights, though E.J. strongly suspected she was smug about them. I can’t say I was wrong; nor can I say that I was right. I was right about the fact that I should not be limited to one friend, but I was wrong to go over to someone else’s side, when God had blessed me with the best friend I ever would have, or can get. After the fights, which numbered a gazillion, we always made up, after a few days. We would talk on the phone for hours, and things would always return to the way they should have been. We were inseparable . . . at least, we thought we were. . .
Then there was the big one. We had had one of our arguments which sort of got out of hand, and then E.J. and her group of new friends decided it was time I.B. got out of the picture; I was supposed to ditch her. Nervously and reluctantly, I agreed. However, when we got to the point and cornered I.B., I lost confidence and chickened out. I was left to console her about E.J. and her new friends had insulted her to the extreme. This really angered her friends, but E.J. was beyond anger. She was so upset that I chose to side with I.B., although that’s exactly not what happened, she did not talk to me.
The same day, we both were feeling so low, we ignored each other, which was the last thing I wanted to do. Then one of the teachers chose me and E.J. to deliver some copies to the staffroom. She spoke then. She said, “we’ll need to . . . talk.’
I was so overcome with emotion I could not reply; I nodded.
When I got home, she called me. She informed me that one of her ‘new’ friends had told her that I was probably using her. I was stunned. I asked her if she would believe her new friend over one she had had for three years now . . . she said she would. I was angry; I told her ‘Fine!’ to which she replied, ‘Fine! This is the END!’
The next few weeks and months were terrible. I used to cry about loosing such a good friend because of my stupidity. I didn’t know how she felt.
In eighth grade, I was beyond myself with worry. I wrote her a letter, like the old times, saying an apology, among other stuff, reminding her of memories. I had thought she would throw it. But the next day, I got a reply from her. I was so stunned; I still remember standing in morning assembly, she coming up, and slipping and envelope with my name on it, into my pocket. We secretly met in the basement, which was the letter had asked me to do. We were both happy; we had made up finally. The problem was we had new best friends now, and we could not go back to the same duo we used to be; that pained me when she reminded me. We decided not to let anyone find out about us being best friends again. We met in the basement in recess everyday, to catch up on each others’ lives, and I remember, whenever we both used to run down from separate staircases, we used to burst out laughing happily. If you count out my previous days with being so close pals with E.J., those were the best days of my life.

However, after a while, we realized we could not continue keeping our newly uncovered friendship. It was sad; but she felt that way, and I did not want to disagree with her ever again. Something changed between us again. We could not talk on the phone anymore; it got way too awkward for words. We were silent around each other. I was tired of all this, I wanted us to be normal friends.
I wrote her a poem then, in the end of eighth grade. It went:-

Dedication to a Long Lost Best Friend
By: E.N.

I will, I must keep holding on
Our friendship is at an end.
But all is not lost; yet
You were once what I called a friend
For that I will everlastingly fret.
I seem to have lost sense of that word
It swims inside me; alone, unheard
You were supposed to be my pal forever
Now what’s left is a searing pain; with tears
I thought I was lucky to have someone who cares
Too bad fate had planned something to go wrong
It circles my head like a steely song
Fault was not yours; I take blame
I bet even you feel the same
But what happened between us
Is not what I’ll forget easily
It was in you I stored my trust
Now remains a barrier to be crossed not easily
You were once a shoulder
Which I could cry on
You were once a friend
Whom I could rely on
You might not share my emotions
But that does not really stop me,
From exposing them; being out of notions
But what future will I then see?
A new start, a beginning without you?
I wish you knew; I cared too
I hope you come; you ask for amity
But there is naught of a possibility
I wish God would change his mind
And we’ll be together again
It’s our buried friendship we’ll blissfully find
Removing all gruesome hurt and pain
We’ll be united, the friends we sought
And together, hatred will be fought
We’ll once again be, what they used to say,
The best of friends forever.

She was so happy. She wrote me a reply, telling me she felt the same way.
Now, we’re in ninth grade. Sometimes, we exchange letters, victims of old traditions that can not be forgotten. She now wrote me a proper reply, which was:-

Re: Dedication to a Long Lost Best Friend
By: E.J.

To my friend – a treasure,
One I’ll always treasure
My dear friend, of course I knew,
How you felt, I did too.
My soul was gone,
Even I was alone.
When I saw you depart,
I was completely torn apart.
It wasn’t easy to forget you.
I did not want to.
It was as if someone plunged
A knife right through my heart.
I may have been silent,
But the feeling was violent.
From inside, I was burned;
Of it, I wish you learned.

But destiny lied elsewhere, now
‘We’ will, we must keep holding on
This friendship will never end
For I will always be what you’d call a friend
Fate had never planned anything wrong.
It was I, who had lost sense of where I belong.

Today I come to you, ask for amity.
I know there is still a possibility.
God has perhaps changed his mind.
Let us be together again.
It’s our buried friendship, which with
Eternal bliss we’ll find
We have to remove all
Gruesome hurt and pain.

These burns have healed.
As for the past, its doors
Have long been sealed.

We now be apart? No, never
For we truly are what they say,
The best of friends forever!

I still have it stored with me, one letter that I will, perhaps, never let go off. To this day, we remain inseparable best friends for ever; and although things are not the same as they were five years ago, I still feel that no one is more blessed than I am to be given such an awesome, never-to-forget best friend as E.J.

The author's comments:
Every word of this is true. E.J. are replaced initials i kept for my friend - best friend. her actual initials are M.J. The second poem is written by her, which I find awesome.

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This article has 1 comment.

M.J said...
on Oct. 19 2008 at 12:31 pm
Its an awesome story for sure, every word of it is true. E.N, u have written it with the depth of your heart. Its a beautiful peice of prose. Awe inspiring yet greatly touching...