Way Back When

“I can’t be your friend anymore,” said the girl. Call her “Brenda.” She was popular and pretty.

She said it quickly, knowing I would understand, explaining this had to happen so she could go out with “Bobby.” No time to lose, say, “Listen, I still like you,” or “Sorry.” Bobby was part of a circle that made fun of some of us.  Brenda couldn’t take a chance.

I went away to school, haven’t given her a thought in years. But something reminded me of her tonight.  I looked online. There was her picture in the high school yearbook. Then a notice: she was about to marry someone. His name was printed wrong; it was “TDonald” Something-Or-Other.

And that was it. No further trace of her or TDonald. How did they come to fall off the face of the Earth?

“Don’t be silly,” you say. “Everybody isn’t online.”

True. But most people have some sort of link to a job, at least. There was that wedding. Or did the wedding fall through?  Was she left out in the cold, like everybody that made Bobby unhappy?

Or did she run away from TDonald? Did TDonald get into trouble? No, that would have made the news. Maybe they just moved to the suburbs, taking the kind of jobs that are essential but invisible, or maybe she's at home fluffing pillows.

What happens to people who turn their backs on people? What does it do to you when you drop somebody so you can get over? Is it easy, what a relief now, I don’t have to worry that maybe he’ll decide it wasn’t really her; I was the one? Or do you look over your shoulder, now and again, do you smile more than you need to, or used to need to way back when?

©2013, 2014 Laynie Tzena.