December Task: Thirty days of character development—Rose
Prompt: What was a turning point in your life?

I remember this one time when Lissa and I were younger—probably six or seven years old; when recess was called we went running outside, both of us wanting to swing. By the time we got to the swing sets, only one was free—all the others had all been claimed by our classmates who'd managed to get out the door first. Without really consciously being aware of making the decision to do so, I stepped aside and let her claim it—watching as she went higher and higher, silently wishing it was me.

She never even thought to let me take a turn—and I never thought to ask.

That's a perfect example of the first thirteen years of our friendship; what Lissa wanted or needed, I made sure she got—always putting her desires and wellbeing ahead of my own. In all those years of self-sacrifice, I never asked her for one single thing—not until the night I lost Dimitri in the cave.

Once again… she never thought to offer, only that time I did ask—and begged and plead and cried—and she refused.

That was the beginning of a major revelation for me—one that grew stronger a week or so later when she tried to use her compulsion to force me to stay on campus with her instead of just accepting that there was something I had to do. I'll never forget the words she hurled at me—' "Friends don't abandon each other—if you were my friend, you wouldn't do it." In that moment, when I felt like I'd lost my soul—when my grief was so strong that it hurt to even breathe, she was thinking of herself and what she wanted—not what was best for me.

Still, I tried to ignore it—because that's what friends do; they overlook each other's flaws and shortcomings and forgive them. Telling myself that, I shoved aside my hurt and anger at her actions, giving her absolution and burying my feelings deep down inside—and for a while I actually managed to forget about how betrayed I'd felt.

Right up until the moment when she stomped on my heart again.

After Dimitri was restored… when she got pissed because I was trying to make him see me so I could talk to him and help him move past the things he'd done… all those feelings I'd suppressed came roaring back up to the surface—only this time they flat out refused to be banished again. They lingered in my head, poking and prodding at me, and they didn't go away until after I'd been shot. It was a turning point for me, spending days in that bed recovering with nothing to occupy me but the thoughts that circled trough my brain. I had a painful truth I had to acknowledge before I could move on, just like Dimitri did. It was one I had to face, no matter how much it might hurt me.

From the very beginning, Lissa never thought of me first—and she probably never will.

I took a bullet for my best friend—would it ever occur to her to do the same? History—as they say—repeats itself; her past actions spoke as clearly as if she were standing right beside me, shouting the answer in my ear.

No.

I love Lissa—I always will; she is my best friend—my sister—so I force myself to forget about the fact she tends to be too self-centered when it comes to my feelings and needs. I am mature enough to accept it and to let it slide off me without getting angry or wrapped up in how one sided our friendship often is—but that doesn't mean I don't feel hurt every single time she thinks only of herself. It's something I'll never mention or even hint at—I'll just suffer the pain in silence.

Lissa's feelings are the ones that matter; that's how it's always been—and that's how it will always be.