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2002-05-12 - 8:06 p.m. I can't stop having these dreams about my old best friend. I've mentioned her here a couple of times--her name is Arianna and she and some other friends ended up unceremoniously dumping me from the group sophomore year. Arianna was really my best friend, though, and we had been "best friends" since kindergarten. It had always been sort of one of those friendships where I liked her better than she liked me, and I do think it was probably good for me how it happened, but it still hurts me. I can't believe that it has been almost ten years and it still hurts like this. I don't think about it anymore very often, but then I have one of these dreams again. I have them at least once a month, if not more, and I had another one last night. I don't know where they come from, other than insecurities. Almost all of my insecurities are gone, in general, but somehow they keep coming back to express themselves through these dreams. The dreams are almost all the same--she's there and we're talking about what happened and resolve to be friends again, but I still feel nervous about trusting her. A variation of this dream is one that hasn't happened lately, where we actually get into a physical fight, but I can't really hit her. I keep missing, or I punch as hard as I can and it doesn't hurt her. She just serves as a reminder, over and over, that I am not good enough, that I don't fit in, that I'm weird, that no one likes me. Being fifteen is just the worst thing in the world, and I'm tired of having to go to that place over and over and over again. I've read that it takes almost twice as long as a relationship lasted to get over someone. That was referring to love relationships, but maybe it applies here as well. That means that I still have another ten years of this crap to deal with. I remember I had my own phone line in my room when I was fifteen. Justine and Arianna got them first, then I got one. My phone literally rang non-stop, plus we all had three-way and call waiting. The phone would ring and it would be Justine or Arianna or one of the various boys we were "talking" to (that was our word for seeing a guy but not actually going out with him yet) and they'd say, "What's up?" and I'd say "What's up?" and we'd start to talk. It was the best feeling in the world. After they stopped being my friends, my phone stopped ringing. Ever since then I have hated talking on the phone. One of the reasons they stopped being my friend was that they thought I was trying to steal their boyfriends, or guys they were talking to. After I stopped being friends with them, my boyfriend dumped me, too, and started going out with Arianna (I think I may have mentioned this in an older entry). I just didn't care about anything anymore. I stopped going to school most mornings, though I usually went for the second half of the day because I had a contract with my Biology teacher that I had to be there every day and she would erase the F I got first quarter. I only had one friend left at that school, and if she was absent I had to eat lunch by myself. When their old boyfriends started calling me, I had nothing better to do. Justine's one true love started calling me, and wanted to hang out with me, but I didn't. The only reason I didn't was that he was best friends with MY ex-boyfriend, the one who was going out with Arianna now, and I wanted him to come back to me. But Amy's ex-boyfriend, who actually went out with Lucia much later, started calling me all the time. He wanted to know what he could do to get back together with Amy, but we became best friends in the process. We made out one time, but decided that it wasn't meant to be. Then there was Arianna's ex-boyfriend, who she broke up with because he had sex with another one of our friends in Arianna's bed. He was their one piece of evidence that I was trying to steal their boyfriends (and not even the reason they stopped being my friends). I let him kiss me one drunken New Year's Eve, when he told me he had chosen the wrong best friend. I didn't even like him, so I have no idea what I was thinking. Anyway, he started calling me up, and told me we should videotape ourselves having sex and send it to Arianna, you know, since we both got screwed by her. Somehow, being fifteen, he appealed to me. And like I said, I didn't care about anything by this point. Even though I didn't like him, I skipped school and went over to his house where he gave me budweiser and his mother's boxed white wine. We didn't end up having sex, but that wasn't for his lack of effort. Later he called me a fucking virgin whore prick tease. Somewhere in there my English teacher ended up calling my mom about my lack of attendance, and I got it together enough that I ended up passing all my classes that year with a C or better. I stopped hanging out with all of my ex best friends' ex boyfriends in an attempt to hurt them, because it didn't seem to be working. I think if anything, Arianna has probably forgiven me, and I would like to say I have forgiven her. I just want to stop having these dreams about her. I want to stop caring, and I want to stop trying to prove to her that I'm worth something. The whole reason I wanted to write a book for so long was that I wanted to become famous so they could see that I really was worth their time. How messed up is that?
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