A Girl I Called G.

I met her on the first day of high school standing on the metal ramp that lead up to the portable classroom our math class was in. Her name was Gabby.

She was and always will be the best friend I’ve ever had.

In life you form connections with people, what you experience together determines most often what kind of relationship with that person you will have.

I knew on the first day of school that Gabby would become my friend, but what I didn’t know was that she would see me go through more in life than any other friend I would ever have.

I didn’t realize that day at school that Gabby would end up spending endless nights in my hospital bed with me. That she would spend hours washing glue out of my hair from medical tests. That instead of going out with friends to parties she would stay in and watch movies with me. That it would become normal for her to catch her friend as she passed out or had a seizure.

I will forever treasure the friendship between Gabby and I because it was and is something so special. She stuck by my side through all of it. I met up with G for coffee a few weeks ago after having not really talked in two years and it was what my soul needed so badly. I forgot how much I had treasured the friendship, because it was natural and she knew about t it all. G is one of the only people that has ben in my life as a friend since before my accident.

College brought new experiences, but it also brought new people and friends and that has been the hardest part. I have never wanted to be known as the “sick girl” but I am also not healthy enough to necessarily “hide” that I’m sick. While I would never want to “hide” being sick because it’s a huge part of who I am, and who I’ve become, it would be nice to be able to make friends and meet people and not eventually have to explain to them why I look like a drug addict every morning when I whip out a bag of pills big enough to create my own pharmacy. Or why when if you look real close, or sit next to me that my legs and arms twitch.

I still haven’t quite figured out how to completely open up to new people about what the past five years of life have been like, because well who wants to hear about a girl that was always sick and had to miss out on this and that. I hate being pitied, and that’s usually the reaction I get when I open up to people about it for the first time.

I’m not good at my own emotions, I would make a great counselor for others, but when it comes to myself I suck. I either don’t share enough, or I word vomit and share so much that the person probably doesn’t want to ever see my face again. And I don’t cry, but then every now and then I remember how maybe I would be better at the whole feelings thing if my teenage years had been normal and not spent in hospitals surrounded by doctors instead of hanging out with friends.

But that’s life I suppose, you live and you learn. And sometimes you find people like Gabby, and when you do hold them close. Because those people, they are the special ones, and word vomit and all they’;; pull you in close and show what true friends are all about.

 

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