Friends
Friends. Associates. Acquaintances. Someone who helps you. Someone who you regard above others. Someone you trust. I'm fairly certain I've never had a true friend. You may disagree and that's your right. When I was younger I was too afraid to get close to others. Afraid they'd hurt me. Afraid I'd get too attached. Afraid they'd leave. Just afraid. I didn't want to receive something I could never reciprocate. I didn't have the ability to care. Or the ability to trust someone fully. It just wasn't fair. Wasn't fair to anyone involved.
My first friend. He wasn't really a true friend. Not by society's standards at least. But to me, he was. He stuck by me. He was with me during the good times and the bad. He kept me grounded. He kept me out of trouble. His name was Oliver Twist. He was imaginary. He was my best friend. I could see him plain as day. He was always there. He wasn't real. I didn't care. It didn't matter. He was always there for me. He vanished when I was eight. Probably went to find his real family. I haven't seen him since.
After Oliver left, I was slightly corrupted. I now craved some form of attention. Only problem, I was still too afraid to find that within a friend. There was this girl at school. Possibly just like me. Most likely not. I noticed her every time I bothered to show up. She had no friends. She kept to herself. She reminded me of me. I never talked to her. I never even knew her name. Our paths never crossed. I watched her from afar. Just the thought of her made me feel less alone. One day. It only takes one day. It was years after I first saw her. She was gone. Just like Oliver. Here one day. Gone the next.
I began cutting class more after she left. There was even less there for me now. I tried reading. Tried getting lost in the words on the page. It didn't work. Once again I craved contact. Any form of contact with others. It didn't take me long to realize I could find what I was seeking in anybody. It didn't matter who they were. How old. Their gender. None of those things mattered. All that mattered is they were there for me.
The Subway. America's finest. Twenty-four hours a day. Seven days a week. Twenty-four lines. Four hundred and sixty-eight stations. Millions of passengers per day. Everyone was there for a different purpose. The Subway didn't discriminate. Sixth Train. I rode as long as I could stand it. I picked my unsuspecting target. I observed them. I figured them out. Why they were riding the subway. Who they were. What they left at home. What their purpose in life was. They left. I picked another passenger. Once again, it made me feel a little less alone. But they all left. No one was stupid enough to ride all day. But I was.
I couldn't understand why people just vanished from my life. They were there one minute and gone the next. I never knew why. I was always too afraid to get close. I would have the answer if I got close. But I wasn't willing to risk it. I don't know what I was risking. I guess I just wasn't willing to give what I'd most likely receive. That's why I refused to ever say goodbye. If I never said goodbye then they were never truly gone. Though, the abusive boyfriends could've stayed gone, but some just insisted on coming back.