My Best Friend

The moment we had an opportunity to talk without the boys present, we bonded.

We became best friends; taking a lot of gossip chatter in stride–everyone around us, jealous; reasons unknown to us, nor did we care. She was my sister from another mother.

Life happened, we would spend time together, then years apart. Always picking up where we left off.

I would have done anything for her, even if it meant dying to protect her, I was already plotting to take the life of the domestic violence abuser.

39 years later. A life changing call. I was given a list.

  1. Invited to a birthday party for her grand. I thanked the home owner as we departed, she hugged me.
  2. Thanksgiving invitation, dropped a pie that morning in case I did not make it back in time; Brooklyn shared all her toys with me.
  3. Complaint of me never answering my phone; guilty! I worked eight hours a day on the phone; my phone usually off always left in my car.
  4. Often text I sent, no response; told later she was going through something, understood.
  5. Took the judgement she threw upon me, even though that judgement was inaccurate in it’s information. Did not judge her in return, accepting her for her.

I was told our relationship had issues that I have to fix.

Brunch led to shopping, shopping led to her seeing my apartment, her response, “I’m jealous.” I thought she was joking.

She has full access to her grand children, two homes, one she occupied, the other her son occupied. She has a man of more than 15 years that honestly loves her. She has a career. She has brothers that look out for her. She is close to her children. Truly she was kidding.

I cannot fix the mind, heart, spirit of another, I can only fix myself.

Texted, called, texted to no avail. No response. Looked back over her list.

Shown that the family member accused, hidden away for ten years had everything to do with that middle of the night call all those years ago.

I will always love her after looking back, I was her friend she was not mine.

Published by Richard Jayne

I love The Creator Of All Things, some of my family members, all those that it took to get to the making of me. Intellectual people; they are sexy! I write when I need to release energy that will inspire, educate, inform, or release negative thoughts that I hope will touch another enough to evoke change.

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