Apple Pie.

I was 14 the day I first laid eyes on you. You were standing towards the front of the room on the right hand side, chatting with what I assumed to be the band that was going to be performing at this little church event I had been told to go to. I was there with my childhood friend because at the time, we were both becoming very active in the volunteer circuit as part of our journey in our religion. I was very excited to be a part of something bigger than myself and was looking forward to meeting other people who shared that same passion.

The day progressed with lectures and discussions and activities, and even ice cream. I soon came to find out that you were the lead singer for the band that was performing. You were good. You really cared about what you were doing, and I was drawn to that. I also found out that you and your brother, along with the rest of the band were a part of a volunteer organization dedicated to youth outreach through music, and I was hooked. I joined the forum that you all were promoting and you....you recognized me. You reached out to me first. You asked me about my day and my life and we talked about Spider-Man and turtles and how we were both looking forward to the next meeting. We talked about our families and you joked about how it was unfair that I was older than you because you were so much taller than me.

We talked every day for years. I would rush home to get onto the computer to talk to you, and eventually you learned my schedule well enough to know whether or not I made it straight home or if my mother stopped to at the store first. You noticed things about me. You knew when I was hurt or upset or sad. You listened to me. And in turn, you confided in me as well. Your brother told me he thought of me as his little sister, and your mom and dad always looked so happy to see me. I felt like I was a part of the family. My baby brother adored you and said you were his best friend. And the truth is, I genuinely believed you were mine as well. And I told everyone who you were to me. You were my best friend.

And soon I found out that you never really mentioned me to anyone. People I went to school with would run into you at events and retreats I was unable to be a part of and would talk about you, and I would say that we knew each other, and they would tell me you never mentioned it. But hey, you always told me you were shy and introverted. Maybe you never knew how to bring it up. It hurt, but I understood, so I let it go.

We developed our own traditions. Discussing Marvel shit and losing our minds over anything Spider-Man related. Reaching out the second we saw Christmas decorations, no matter how early. You texting me on Thanksgiving asking me for a slice of apple pie (your favorite) and me sending you a picture of one. I would always get asked why out of all of the food in front of me, the pie was the only thing I couldn't let myself eat until getting a picture. And I always said it was for you. You were my best friend.

As we got older things got harder. I started to struggle with my mental health. Apparently, so did you. We both started to drift away from the church we once called home. We confided in each other often. Venting via text message during the day, and having very late night talks opening up about our fears and feelings. We were there for each other. You were my best friend.

I don't really know when it started to happen, but eventually you started to pull away from me. You would reach out when you were struggling and needed someone to talk to, but whenever we tried to see each other, you were somehow too busy. It got to the point where I'd find out that you were going out with people I knew and somehow I was never invited. It hurt, but unfortunately I was struggling with depression and anxiety so I didn't blame you. I blamed myself for not being good enough. After all, you would never intentionally hurt me. You were my best friend.

One day I found out you had moved out of state without telling me. I was devastated, but somehow, that also meant I got you back. You started talking to me all the time again. I guess because of the loneliness? I'll never know. You still would reach out when you were struggling, but we were talking about the fun things again as well. I will forever remember one day you insisting on calling me because you needed to drive home but did not want the conversation to end. I was so, so touched by that gesture. It had been a really fucking long time since I had felt that important to anyone, and it meant even more because it was you. You were my best friend.

Some time passed and I found out you moved back without telling me. I found out when I was checking Facebook for a message from a co-worker, and I saw that you were tagged in a picture with some of your friends. I was devastated, and there was no "but" this time.

You would talk to me on occasion. Send memes, talk about bookstore trips, things like that. You'd ask me about my experiences with anxiety and depersonalization because you were struggling with them, and I gave you techniques that I used to handle it. But it wasn't the same. And just as quickly as we would start talking, you would disappear from me again. Somehow you always, always had time for the people you told me you couldn't open up to, and yet you would pour your heart out to me and leave me. And I always excused it. I put up with it. For you. Because I understood you. You were my best friend.

Four years ago I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I decided to grieve the loss of the friendship I held onto for so long. I was mad at myself for not being able to keep it alive, and I was mad at you for not helping me try to do so. I made a post to let out my feelings. And you texted me saying I could talk to you whenever.
I decided to end things.
I wrote you a long letter chronicling everything you had put me through. I told you I hoped that you were treating the people around you better than you were treating me. I told you how I was hurt and sad and how in spite of all that I still sympathized with you. Because I cared about you. You were my best friend.
You apologized to me and tried to explain that you were scared of being open and found it easier to give your time to people you could wear a mask around. You told me you were at a loss because you didn't know how to mend our friendship.
And I told you that if you were leaving things up to me, that I would be calling it there. I told you that maybe this was a bump in the road for us or maybe it was the end of it, but I was tired of having my sanity on the line and hoping that one day you would care about our friendship as much as I did. I told you to take care of yourself and that I would try to do the same.

I never heard from you again.

And yet, you're everywhere. A local paper wrote about you and your debut album that was going to be about the heartbreak you experienced. Your mom somehow still would end up in my notifications. Sometimes we'd see old mutual friends at other church events and they would mention you. Your aunt and uncle would shop in my store during my shift.

Your apple pie is on our Thanksgiving table.

It doesn't taste the same.

6 Kudos

Comments

Displaying 3 of 3 comments ( View all | Add Comment )

✭ star laveaux ✭

1637973720

so I clicked on this thinking it would be pictures of apple pies. Apple pie is my favorite dessert . After reading this, now I’m in my feelings. I’m pretty sure I’ve disappeared on a lot of people. I do it all the time. the part about them being around people so they can “wear a mask” . that sounds like me. I wasn’t ready for this. you’re such an amazing writer.