I was a child, and didn't have a best friend yet. So I learned to read...and we went everywhere together. I learned to write...and took others with me. The plowhorse had his day, but my lullaby still led it to slumber.
She came in the 6th grade, my rival, my best friend...separately and together we charted the teen waters. When she moved across the country the summer before our senior year, my heart broke. I couldn't fathom life without her. But with baby steps, I found my path - out of high school, out of the neighborhood, and learned to swim in the deep end. I didn't know it then, but adulthood was still miles ahead.
That year was my milestone. I couldn't see it but I was coming into my own, drawing people to me, and beginning to find and choose my lifelong friends. Wannabe rebel who couldn't quite shake the goody-two-shoes mantle. Enthusiasm carried the day. Not one, but two Musketeerships - one of the guys, and not believing even decades later I was really anything more. I'm that same girl now...gift and curse of middle age.
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