Today was, in summary, a stupid day full of stupid people. And I could go into detail about all the fun little things that happened before I had my coffee at the choir festival today, but, believe it or not, that is actually not what I came on here, a place NO ONE reads, to bitch about.
When I got back to school and changed and everything, I went to eat lunch with my friends at our usual spot. The first thing out of their mouths was “Are you depressed?”
Not hello. Not anything about the festival. Are you depressed.
What the fuck?
And that was pretty much my reaction. Confusion. The truth is, yeah, I am depressed. But, in front of a bunch of people who don’t understand the true meaning of pain and a question that is obviously mocking, I’m not going to tell the truth.
So I laugh and joke a bit, all the while wondering what was up, when the normal conversation started back up. But one of them-who I’ll refer to as “Q” (which is a really nice, inconspicious letter)-just would not drop it.
At first I just joked it off. I assumed she was just talking about the stupid “Healthy Kids Survey” everyone had taken in homeroom and, at first, she was. But then she said “Seriously.” And we all know that seriously means business. As I’m torn between confusion and annoyance, she finally spills the beans.
Apparently, tomorrow is Daniella is Awesome Day.
What. The. Fuck.
I was sure she was making fun of me, so I just gave her a weird look and laughed it off.
Then one of the friends I don’t hang out with at lunch comes by and starts kidding around with us. Another girl in our group spots her and asks “So what is that thing about Daniella tomorrow?”
And she’s frozen, staring at the girl who had just spoken in disbelief and something clicks.
“I thought you were joking!” I accusingly say, turning to “Q”, who glares at me.
“You weren’t supposed to say anything!” she snaps back.
“I can’t believe you guys told her!” the other girl interrupts, obviously trying to hide her annoyance.
I’m completely thrown off by this. I have no idea what’s going on. So I do what I usually do and say something stupid.
“You guys are crazy. I think I should just stay home tomorrow.”
And we’re back to joking around and laughing like nothing happened. The bell rings and I start walking to class with two of my other friends, one of which explains to me that there’s a Facebook thing that says that a bunch of my friends wanted to “cheer me up” because I’ve been “rather down lately”. I shrug and laugh and say they’re silly and focus on other things, like not failing Calculus.
It isn’t until I get home and am in the shower that I realize what had happened.
The girl that had apparently planned this-“K”- was one of the few people who actually realized what I was going through at home. She had noticed what I had tried so hard to cover up; that everything happening was slowly tearing me down, piece by piece until there was hardly something left.
I’m suddenly glad that they told me because I knew that if it had been a surprise, I would have started crying.
But the happiness doesn’t last long and suddenly I’m angry. Really, unbelievably, unforgettably angry. Because this girl, “K”, a girl that I felt like I had done nothing more than just be friends with, had known that something was wrong and cared enough about me to do something about it. My “real” friends hadn’t or didn’t.
I gave everything to them. I baked them cakes on their birthdays, I snuck them into performances, I helped them with their homework, I was always there when they needed me. They didn’t return any of those favors.
My birthday was ignored. They get mad at me because I don’t have time or money to hang out with them. They are incapable of understanding anything wrong in my life because they’re too fucking shallow and too fucking rich.
They all knew that I was having problems. They all knew that I was upset with my family. They all knew that their time with me was numbered.
But none of them did anything. They just sat around and whined about how their parents are so stupid for taking away their phones or bitched when I told them I couldn’t hang out or begged me to help me with their homework. Like I was their slave. Like I was their mother.
And this girl, this girl that I’ve known for a shorter time than them, this girl who I had once feared really didn’t like me, had planned to do something for me that no one had ever done before.
And they had gone around and fucked it up on purpose.
I put myself in “K’s” position. If I had been the one to go through the trouble of planning something like this, which I have before, I would be super pissed. They just ruined something that was supposed to be a surprise.
And now I’m super pissed that they ruined it for me. Because, without trying to be vain or egotistical, I would have really liked for something good to happen to me for once. And they just took it away from me.
Once I calm down and the tears stop threatening to fall, I realize that “K” has given me a gift no one else had ever given me. She showed me who my friends really are, who I can really trust, and it’s not the girls who sit around and complain when they get a few dollars less than their normal allowance.
She showed me how done I was with letting myself be used by them. Because, while I do love them like my sisters, true friends would never have done that to me. True friends would have let me have my one good thing without stomping all over it.
And a true friend would have baked me a damn cake, gone over to my house, and let me cry on their shoulder when I didn’t get a sweet sixteen.
I know I sound whiney. I know I sound bitchy. But, quite frankly, I don’t care anymore. Because I’m done with this. I’m done with all of this. And they are the reason.
