I’m one of millions of kids that is told by their parents, “No dating until you’re sixteen”. For some reason, I imagined this occasion as follows; On the day of my 16th birthday, the voice of my best male friend (to be decided) would come over the intercom at school (he’d figured out a way to jack it… obviously) and announce that I was now eligible to date. A hoard of attractive high school boys (since everyone would know who I was)Â would stampede towards me….
Ok. So maybe it didn’t actually happen like that. One of the factors that prevented this from happening (because you never know) is that I got my first boyfriend a couple months after my fifteenth birthday.
The relationship didn’t last long, but the friendship, surprisingly, did. Mike and I had met in 8th grade; he was the new kid, and I was the only person that would talk to him. And although our two month relationship was anything but stable, I wouldn’t take it back.
We both grew up a lot after that, especially in the year after I’d broken up with him, when he refused to talk to me. We both laid down the foundation for moving on, although it’s taken me a bit longer to complete my journey.
Mike lives in Ohio now, after a trail of unfortunate circumstances, but we keep in touch, almost better than we did before. Instead of dreading conversation with him, like I do with a lot of people, I look forward to it. He can always make me laugh, even if it’s about something stupid. It’s nice to unwind over his plethora of stalkers and my complicated, albeit imaginary, romantic endeavors.
I think we’ll stay friends, which is something I wouldn’t have even considered two years ago, but I’m grateful for this change. Sometimes, I think losing a friend temporarily makes you closer. That’s definitely the case with Mike, but I regret nothing about our strange friendship.
