2007/07/02 22:48
Eight
So far, I've talked about bullies in day care, at school, and on my block; about being poorly thought of among my peers to the point of outright mockery; about kids who I thought were friends abandoning me to prevent their own stock from dropping.
Something had to go my way, socially speaking, sooner or later. And it did, one afternoon during the summer after third grade, when Jenny showed up at the day care.
Her family was new to the city -- well, more or less; they'd lived in Albuquerque before but had most recently been in Texas. As luck would have it, she would be going to my school in the coming year. It could only be even greater luck that somehow her parents had passed four day care centers between their house and the one I attended to enroll Jenny and her sister in the summer recreation program.
But it wasn't the perfect meant-to-be scenario you might be picturing. Jenny was three years younger than me. And a girl, during a time in one's life when one does not consort with the opposite sex for fear of contracting the dreaded cootievirus.
It took maybe a minute to realize I didn't care. I was already an outcast, and befriending a girl my brother's age wasn't going to hurt me any more. Besides, that minute of conversation with her was all it took to hook me.
Looking back on it, Jenny was probably my first crush. I usually say it was Lindsay Humphreys in middle school, but that's because by the time I was twelve I knew what it was. Besides, Lindsay and I never bonded the way Jenny and I did. Hanging out and talking with her just felt right, natural, what a friendship should be.
And it still does.
Yes; despite a physical separation that started when she left the day care shortly after my brother and has only had two brief interruptions (one year when we were in the same high school and two or three before Sed and I moved to Florida), Jenny and I have actively maintained our friendship. Maybe we can only exchange letters, phone calls or e-mail these days, but it's a relationship that's been too good to us (or at least to me) to just let go.
OK, you got me. I actually owe Jenny a long letter about everything that's gone on this year -- my daughter, my new job, my hobbies, the works. Truly, I've been an inexcusable slacker about contact. But maybe she'll happen upon this paean to our friendship, and that will count for something.
Something had to go my way, socially speaking, sooner or later. And it did, one afternoon during the summer after third grade, when Jenny showed up at the day care.
Her family was new to the city -- well, more or less; they'd lived in Albuquerque before but had most recently been in Texas. As luck would have it, she would be going to my school in the coming year. It could only be even greater luck that somehow her parents had passed four day care centers between their house and the one I attended to enroll Jenny and her sister in the summer recreation program.
But it wasn't the perfect meant-to-be scenario you might be picturing. Jenny was three years younger than me. And a girl, during a time in one's life when one does not consort with the opposite sex for fear of contracting the dreaded cootievirus.
It took maybe a minute to realize I didn't care. I was already an outcast, and befriending a girl my brother's age wasn't going to hurt me any more. Besides, that minute of conversation with her was all it took to hook me.
Looking back on it, Jenny was probably my first crush. I usually say it was Lindsay Humphreys in middle school, but that's because by the time I was twelve I knew what it was. Besides, Lindsay and I never bonded the way Jenny and I did. Hanging out and talking with her just felt right, natural, what a friendship should be.
And it still does.
Yes; despite a physical separation that started when she left the day care shortly after my brother and has only had two brief interruptions (one year when we were in the same high school and two or three before Sed and I moved to Florida), Jenny and I have actively maintained our friendship. Maybe we can only exchange letters, phone calls or e-mail these days, but it's a relationship that's been too good to us (or at least to me) to just let go.
OK, you got me. I actually owe Jenny a long letter about everything that's gone on this year -- my daughter, my new job, my hobbies, the works. Truly, I've been an inexcusable slacker about contact. But maybe she'll happen upon this paean to our friendship, and that will count for something.
Jenny is a great person. I wish I had created half the bond with her that you have over the years. It's great that you still talk to her. It is definitely a true friendship to last through the years.
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