The wrong exit

Once, when I was young (about 13) I had a good friend named Jennifer. Jennifer lived across the street, was a Lutheran, and had good things to eat in her pantry, a giant tree house in her backyard, and an older brother I had a crush on. She preferred to be called Jennifer, not Jenn or Jenny. Our birthdays were around similar days in the year, and I remember one year when we both got Nike gym bags, except I liked hers and she liked mine, so we traded. I still have that gym bag, it is sitting in a closet in Texas, and I still like it better than the one that my parents gave me for my birthday. We both liked the first Goo Goo Dolls album, and she was the first person to show me the hidden track on that CD. We grew close quickly, and could talk to each other about anything. But, even at the age of 13, this made me uncomfortable. And I remember one day when I looked her in the face and told her that I thought we were getting to be too close of friends. That I thought we shouldn't spend anymore time together. That is honestly what I said. I thought we were too close friends.

This, I would say, is the ugliest part of my personality. It is something that makes me ashamed. But it is something that I have known for so long that I am not readily aware of how to get rid of it and replace it with something better. When I told Jennifer goodbye, I didn’t really want her to go away forever. I wanted her to be torn apart. I wanted her to need me. I wanted her to beg me to remain her friend forever. I jumped in the fucking river and I wanted her to save me. And that is the hardest truth I have ever had to say.

Well, fuck me. I am sorry. I am 22 now and just starting to be able to realize that I need to change that. I don’t know how, and I don’t know how long it will take, but fuck me all the while until I get there. I apologize. I think this is the point where I need to switch it into reverse.