Losing Something

mollygirl and me  I know I’m only a 16-almost 17- year-old girl, so yeah what do I know about losing something? And I’m not just talking about losing my eraser for the five billionth time or losing a favorite earring. I mean something really important, something that meant a lot to me. And yes, to answer that question, I have.

Two years ago I lost my best friend. I didn’t lose her in the sense that she died, but to me the feeling of her dying and what actually happened are probably exactly the same.

It was the start of our freshman year of high school and summer had been amazing. We were joined at the hip. We had regular 24-hour or more sleepovers. In the eighth grade, we walked home together everyday and hung out every weekend. Even if we didn’t hang out for a week or a few weeks over the summer, when we did it was like we had seen each other every day.

Now, to give you some perspective we were both sort of complete opposites. I was in all the Gate classes, she wasn’t. I played soccer, she danced. She was super confident and liked the spotlight, I was pretty shy except when with my friends. She went from one boy to the next, while I tended to stick with one guy for awhile. The list is endless, but regardless of all those differences every time we hung we had the best of everything. She was always there for me. The good, the bad, the heart break, the loss of a pet, the giddyness of each of us having dates to our first dance.

Over that particular summer though, I noticed we experienced a little bit more than the usual differences from before. I was super busy with my Honors classes homework, soccer and field hockey camps, and she was busy with her cheer camps, her new boyfriends (yeah there was more than one).

I noticed it, but I thought nothing of it at the time because we had always managed to be there for each other and I mean this was our first year in high school! We had always talked about how crazy and exciting it would be–getting our first high boyfriends, going on dates, getting our licenses, cars, you name it.

So, where did it all go down hill? Three days into high school, she hadn’t said a word to me. I’d seen that she was hanging around these two other girls that we’d known since middle school (I even knew them longer than that since they were both on my first club soccer team, CFC, with me but I was never close to them).

However, I didn’t know that she had taken to replacing me, her best friend, her sister, with them. Things got bad. Nasty things were said and feelings got hurt. To be honest, the whole time I felt like it barely hurt her at all. How could she just drop me? Our friendship?

Not to mention the fact that I went through a helluva of a lot of growing up and change the summer between eighth and ninth grade. I cut my hair really short and basically broke up with the guy whom I had thought I was in love with. And then she, my best friend in the world who I had never been as close to with anyone else, just stopped being my friend.

Freshmen year was hard. It wasn’t just because I lost her or that I cut my hair(donated it to Locks of love) and basically had a meltdown from it or that I was still getting over some guy. It was because I felt like I had no one there for me, not like how my previous best friend could have been there for me.

Oh and to top it all off, the February of that same year I found out that my dog, Molly, had thyroid cancer. Cancer. Even now, I still. I just can’t even say or type it without crying. We rescued Molly when she was one year old and now at ten years old she was going to die, no matter what surgeries or treatment we had done. It was just too much and at the same time not enough to save her.

And when you’re a 15 year-old girl who just lost her best friend and had to witness day by day how much pain you’re dog that you have had since you were in second grade go through it does something to you.

I had to force feed her, Molly, even though I knew, I knew deep down she hated it and that she was probably only holding on for us. She was ready.

I wasn’t

She was tired of all the hospitals and pills and shots and throwing up.

It got to the point where she was too weak to stand up while throwing up and I found her and I had to hold her up while she threw up so she wouldn’t choke on her own throw up.

I can’t even talk about the day we had to put her down.

June 9th, 2013. Her pain was finally over.

Mine still isn’t.

But that’s life. Pain. And more pain.

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