Today is my best friend's birthday. I haven't seen her since 1996, but I still remember her birthday. Her name was Patricia, and she was the first best friend I ever had.
I met her in Junior High, otherwise known as "The Hellhole". Does anybody have happy memories of Junior High? I have very few memories of Jr. high worth remembering, but she is one of them.
We were in the same Spanish class in the eighth grade. As I think back, we didn't actually become real friends until the 9th grade, our first year of high school. As it turned out, we were in the same home room, and became good friends. My high school memories are mostly about her, and the fun we had at the library, in homeroom, and free blocks sitting outside talking. We didn't have many classes together, ironically.
We were both quiet, shy people, but came out of our shells together. Around her, I could be myself. She understood me, and I understood her. We both loved the Celtics, and she didn't mind listening to me rave about my latest passion, the Bruins. We both had our difficulties at times with the popular crowd, and we bonded by making fun of ourselves, and how unfashionable we were. I confided in how mortified I was at having to wear my sister's hand me downs, and how my peers laughed at and made fun of me because I did not wear designer jeans or Nike sneakers.
It's hard to believe how much damage that type of negativity can hurt a sensitive person. It doesn't bother me now because I think it made me stronger, but at the time, having a friend like Patricia who accepted me as I was made all the difference.
Tricia was extremely intelligent, but she didn't flaunt it. She got straight A's in all her subjects. She was a math whiz, and also was in the singing clubs at school. She had a great sense of humor.
After high school, I saw her twice. Once, in 1991, we met for Chinese food, and then walked all the way back to my house, and she met my cats. The second time she and our mutual friend went out to eat, and before they left we took pictures in my driveway.
Previously, Tricia had gone to college, and was very successful. She moved to Washington DC, and I think she still lives there. Since she's African-American, I wish I could talk to her and find out how she felt about Obama being our first black president. We were never diligent about writing, and we lost touch.
I haven't found her on Facebook, though since I'm not a member, she may be out there somewhere.
Wherever you are, Patricia, you are the best! I will never forget you!!
Love,
Karin
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