so many people

I've been thinking about this friend I had back in high school, a million years ago, who was just the nicest person you'd ever meet. She'd drop everything if you asked her, and I definitely asked a couple times. I'd have done anything for her because I had the biggest crush on her but I don't think she ever asked me for anything.

Like, one early September about ten years back I got way too drunk with her, and by "with her" I think she maybe had three beers, and the only part about the evening I remember is telling her I loved her, which . . . fuck, maybe I did, who even knows? I was young and upset about a boy whose name I don't even remember and I was very, very drunk. And you know, anyone besides her would have maybe talked to me about my little drunken confession, or acted a little different, but she was just too nice. Let me pretend it never happened.

Here's the thing though: girl was a goddamn doormat.

So about a year later--November, around her birthday--we're drinking again, right? She doesn't like big gatherings but she's invited, you know, half a dozen people, give or take. Two people show up. Me and her big brother. She doesn't say anything but there's this look in her eye, like something's snapped. She's not okay. But I ask, her brother asks, and she just says "I'm fine, I'm sure they're just busy," and starts drinking.

She's wasted by the time her brother takes off, and I get the check because it's her birthday and I walk her home, hold her hair back while she pukes, you know. The things you do for your friend who got too drunk on her birthday. The friend you might be in love with but you've been dutifully ignoring those feelings because thinking about them is . . . complicated.

I leave her some water and some ibuprofen and I crash on the couch in case she needs something in the morning (and also it's a long walk home and I'm broke). Over breakfast the next morning (if you can call 1 in the afternoon 'morning') she says thanks. Says she's glad that, just for once, someone is helping her with her problems. And for the rest of the day she talks to me about her life. Because of course she has problems, she just doesn't tell anyone about them. Until that day.

I moved out of town a few months later--it's a long story, filled with sighs--and we fell out of touch. These things happen. But like I said, I've been thinking about her lately. I hope she's found friends who will try to put her first sometimes--God knows I never did. And I hope she was at least a little pissed at me for that when she figured it out, that even her best friend, the one who loved her, walked on her just like everyone else.

We're all so many people throughout our lives. I hope she's become one of the people who realizes she's too good for fuck-ups like me.