Some Folks Just Need To Move On

When I was in junior high school, about a hundred years ago, I had a really good friend, CK. Along with AH, the three of us were together constantly. We were the tallest three girls in our class, so we were always noticed. We also were a LOT of fun. CK’s parents were quite old and thus she had more freedom than most of us. Needless to say, we spent the night at her house more than at mine or AH’s, since we were able to come and go as we pleased, because her parents usually went to bed around 8:00 every night.

AH’s family moved to Atlanta when we were fourteen, and CK and I drifted apart when we began high school. I rarely saw her in high school, since our interests were different. When we were nineteen, she got married and moved to Memphis. I helped host a stupid wedding shower for her, even though I felt she was too young to get married, and visited her in Memphis once. She then moved to Ohio, when we were in our twenties, with her husband and two kids.

She’s been a stay-at-home mom for twenty-three years. We have absolutely nothing in common, and haven’t since we were fourteen years old. YET, she still calls whenever she comes here to visit her family, which is usually once a year. Over the years, I’ve often ignored her phone calls and been able to escape the visits sometimes. Oh, and she never calls until she arrives in town. Never gives me any type of forewarning. She just expects me to be free to see her when she has the time.

The last time I saw her was two years ago. I never call her; I don’t send her a stupid Family Newsletter Christmas Card (I’m about to gag just writing that) and I have nothing to say to her when I actually do get “caught” and am forced to have dinner with her. When last we were together, after ninety minutes of listening to how perfect her two boys were at everything they did, she finally asked me how I was doing. I told her I was seeing someone and I was having a good time with said man. She asked me about him, and since it was early in our relationship, I had only good things to say. She then said, “Well, if he’s so wonderful, why isn’t he married?” I nearly dropped my fork. I was so shocked at her ignorant insensitivity that I had no reply. That was the last straw for me. Since then, I’ve sworn to myself that I will have nothing to do with my former friend.

Why, then, am I writing about this today? You guessed it: she called me two nights ago from her poor old mother’s house. (That woman is eighty-two now.) Thanks to answering machines, I didn’t have to talk to her. I never will talk to her again. I’m just going to ignore her until I move away next year and she’ll never know what happened to me. I HOPE.