There’s a group of girls at my school that I have pretty much envied since freshmen year. It’s never been their looks or talents that filled me with such jealousy, but their friendship. The way that they operate like a well oiled machine, in the way that if one was missing, the rest would just seem...off. The way they already know what the other is going to say, the way they understand who needs time to themselves, the way the know who needs a hug, and the way they know who needs a reality check. They way that they’ve been molded into each other’s lives so very deeply that whenever you address one, the entire group becomes involved. I believe in and completely envy this: friendship that actually means something.

    As a person who craves close relationships, it’s an understatement to say that these past four years in high school for me have been a disappointment. While I did enjoy close friendships, they all seemed so superficial. After the final bell rang, it was like we had ended our friendship shift for the day and went to our own lives for the night. I began making friends out of convenience, ones who connected with my class schedule and not my heart, and now that I’m ready to move onto the next phase of my life, it’s bittersweet to say that I don’t think I can bring any of them with me. While our time in high school was fun, small talk can only take a relationship but so far.     

I began to find my solace in being the third wheel of best friendships, the outside entity that enjoys acknowledgment until the next class bell rings, where I’ll hook onto the next for my hourly fulfilment. It felt good feeling cared for, even for that small amount of time, even though I understood that when we went home, no late night phone calls were going to come through my line. No invitations were ever sent out and no friends ever came by to hang out. When I make a phone call at three o’clock in the morning, no one is going to pick up. When I get bored, there’s no offers extended to me to come and chill. I’ve been afraid for the past four years to throw an actual birthday because I worry about how many of my “friends” would actually show up.

It sometimes keeps me up at night, haunting my thoughts with fears of what could come in the near future. When I do move on, is there anyone who’d actually try to mend a relationship stagnated by meaningless conversations and lack of constant interaction? Would there be anyone who’d be lost without me in their lives? If I died, who would cry tears and actually mean them? That group of girls, when graduation comes, are going to mean their tears; they’re not saying goodbye to friends, they’re saying goodbye to sisters who went out of their way to stand by each other through thick and thin, fulfill each other mentally and emotionally, and love each other regardless of how they feel. When graduation comes...will I mean my tears?