Sunday, October 04, 2009

Part 1: I hated her because I was not her

"I keep thinking I will have an epiphany and then know exactly who I want to be" ... interesting secret from

"who" they want to be versus "what"... Most people don't know what they want to be when it comes to society or career. Maybe thats what that person means, but by using the word "who" it sounds more like an identity.

All along I knew who I wanted to be... I remember as a child (and still now) being attracted to the people that had endearing qualities that I craved. I was drawn to them for their effortless popularity, generous nature and seemingly perfect lives.

Here's one of many of those people:

I had a friend from probably 2nd or 3rd grade up to 5th grade. Michelle Wilson. She was a light-skinned Jamaican girl with a thick accent. Big round apple head. Hair and clothes always neat and pressed. Quiet, smart, sleepy-eyed girl. When she laughed her eyes disappeared. Everyone respected and liked her. Not too many people teased or picked on her and if someone did, majority would stick up for her. She had 'money' cuz she could afford to bring her own lunches to school: she didn't qualify for free lunch like majority of my classmates including me. She had a dad that was a teacher in junior high who I would later become a pupil of and fall in love with in a father/daughter kind of way. He was very respectable and caring. He picked her up sometimes from school. I was like her guardian and I had taken to walking her to the public bus that she rode so nobody would mess with her. Not that anyone was scared of me, but there's power in numbers and being a lone one on the streets of Brooklyn makes you an easy target. I loved her smarts. She cried if she got anything less than an A or B. I wish I cared or even my family cared about my schooling like her and her dad did.

I don't know if wanted to be her friend because I felt I deserved everything she had. I wanted the respect she got because of who she was. Not that i would ride off her coattails, but thats what it looked like i guess. She shared lunch with me every day. She gave me half her juice box and shared her sandwich, or gave me half her snack that her dad packed her. People were jealous of our friendship. They would ridicule us and chastize me for 'stealing' her lunch. Why was I so greedy they asked? do i have to always eat her lunch? Little did they know that if I said no, I would insult her and hurt her feelings?!

the downfall of our friendship you ask? I got tired of her. I got annoyed and a lot of hate and disgust grew in my heart. I turned on her, told her I didnt want to be her friend and stopped hanging out with her. I made her cry. You're probably wondering what kind of person i am or what did she do to deserve that. This isn't an apologetic regretful story. This is my homage to Michelle and all the others that have had a profound affect on my life.

I cry now for the person I was and the way I treated her. I cry because I know now I felt I was living a life I didn't fit in or deserve. I knew my fate before I knew what fate was... before I knew I had a choice, my future was calling me, beckoning me and showing me the way to a certain world i would soon live in.

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