I am Strong. Not in the generic sense of strength, but in a way that only one who has survived such wild experiences might understand. It started with a best friend, a few seemingly good ideas and an outrageous sense of desire. Our parents loved us, the boys were attracted to us and the girls wanted to be our friends. We jumped around from cute boy to cute boy and trio to trio, but we were never satisfied. We craved more. I needed more and she was by my side. Once high school began, everything intensified. The boys wanted more and the pressure was on. She had fallen in love and I was on the prowl. “I love him so much! He does anything I want!” She always had to brag.
During the summer after my freshman year at one of my club Waterpolo games, this crazy boy and his best friends arrived and asked to play. I’d never seen them before, they were older and I was interested. No more than a month later I had hooked the leader of the group and that sense of desire was becoming fulfilled. He was a typical rag headed skater/surfer boy, but that fun and free exterior soon faded and I was stuck in his sinking ship. He needed my help and I couldn’t say no. He fell into the wrong group and I hated it. It was always around us, wherever we went, it followed like a bad Omen. He was addicted to them, but would never admit it. “C’mon Ally, it’s not a big deal. I can leave whenever I want.” He never wanted to. I would beg and plead and become infuriated and fight; He just didn’t see the point. We began to drift and I feared having to go back to my old friends and my old dull way of life, so I did everything I could to stay with him. I broke my own heart and morals for his Love.
Once my junior year started, I realized things needed to change. I desired new adventures and I couldn’t find them with him pretending to be by my side. “I can’t be with you anymore.” I would try to explain. He said “no, c’mon Ally. I love you. You can’t leave me.” Just before his 18th birthday I told him I wanted a break, thinking I could ease out of the pit. He agreed, but wouldn’t go down without a fight. The violent rebellion against authority increased and I feared that if I left him, he might kill himself. I was afraid but finally escaped.
Valentines Day he tried to surprise me by stealing his dad’s car and showing up at my house with roses and a card. He was in such a hurry to beat my other date home, that he crashed the car and destroyed my night.
“This isn’t healthy. I can’t talk to you if you’re going to be like this. I can’t see you again.” I said
“Never?” He asked fighting back tears.
“Not until you’re over me.”
“Never…” He repeated and began to cry.
I nodded, turned around and left. No more chances. That was it and I was done.
My best friend was there for me, in and out of that relationship. She said the right things at the right time and hugged at the right parts, but while I was away she’d changed her ways too. After her boyfriend dumped her, she was a mess and heading down the same nasty path as my old daredevil. Again I became blind and followed. I didn’t think I had anywhere else to go. It wasn’t until the last few months of school did our new trio finally break. Our wild ride had come to an end when authority put its big foot in our crooked path. Together we made a pact to change. We promised our parents and each other that we were going to recover and look out for one another along the way.
Last day of school, the third party breaks our pact and that friendship was over. I was committed to change and if she couldn’t handle it then I didn’t need someone like her in my life anymore. I’d met a better guy, who my parents loved, and so did I.
“I know who you used to be, but I know that’s not the girl you are today. I am in love with you Ally and I know you’re better than that.”
He moved across the country, but he was there for me every night of that never ending summer.
My night of final realization came when a harmless party crossed some lines. I found out the other friends she’d been hanging out with, weren’t considered the “good kids” of the neighborhood. I had guessed that, but I didn’t want to make any assumptions until I knew for sure. That night, I found out my worst fears had been confirmed. I confronted my so-called best friend about her old habits that never died. She admitted that it happened again and I told her that I didn’t need to be around someone who is going to lie to her parents, my parents, and especially to me. I made sure she found her own ride home that night and I haven’t gone back to her since.
“I’m proud of you. I know it took a lot to do that, but you did the right thing. You’re such a great girl and your bravery is one of the many reasons I love you so much.” He always knew the right thing to say to make me feel like everything I went through was for a good reason.
I made new friends and survived the long summer by looking at scholarships and colleges. I was ready for a new year of school to start and a new group of friends. It’s my year and I’m ready to finally do what I’ve always wanted and that’s playing Waterpolo, writing stories, and hanging out with my real friends. I am strong. I know how to say “no” and I know what to do in order to obtain what desire most. I am not afraid to stand up for what I believe in and I’m not afraid to keep my mouth shut where it needs to be closed. My story started with a friend and doesn’t finish, but continues with some real ones. My parents still love me and my boyfriend has still been there for me throughout everything. I am not entirely proud of the things I’ve done, but I’m not ashamed to say I know where things went wrong. Everyone makes mistakes and for admitting and correcting mine, I am strong.