Fifth grade is a very awkward time. It was the first time I was ever self conscious about the people I hung out with. I was so concerned with my image that I would do anything to be accepted by the people I had dubbed “cool”.
I became obsessed with the notion that I was not cool, and this slowly destroyed my self image. I was a nervous wreck, and I always worried about what people thought about me. I would assume that people were judging me, or that they thought I was boring. This was the perfect setting for the most shameful year of my life. This was the year I lost my best friend. Not in the sense that he died, but that I just couldn’t face him after what I had done to him.
His name was Eli and we had been friends since first grade. We spent so much time at each others houses that we were practically brothers. However, I realized that a lot of people did not think my friend was cool.
This put me in an awkward position, because I couldn’t be cool while he was around, but he was my best friend. Slowly I tried to disassociate myself with him to see if the cool kids would accept me. I could tell he was hurt by this but I pressed on all the same. The cool kids realized what was happening and made it a game to see if they could make me ditch him and hang out with them.
One day I told Eli that he was un-cool and therefore could not hang out with me. I was welcomed with open arms in to the cool kids circle, but they slowly grew disinterested in me.
I began to tease Eli around the cool kids so they would take an interest in me. This worked for a while, but I would have to go to more and more extreme measures of wickedness toward him to get their attention.
Finally one day I was such an ass to him that I sent him away in tears. The cool kids loved me, but their attention meant nothing to me anymore. The stress of being an asshole can really get to you if you are not careful and I had decided I that enough was enough.
A few days later, after not making fun of Eli for a while, the cool kids asked me why I was hanging out with them. I was sent out of the group to roam the lunch area. I was almost in tears, because I realized that I had been living a lie for most of the year. I broke down behind some bushes and cried like a baby for a while.
I saw that Eli was watching me. I came out from behind the bush and he walked over to me. He smiled, held out his hand and said “friends?” I couldn’t face him after all that I had done. I looked over to where the cool kids were sitting and saw them watching me. I turned my back to him and walked away.
The rest of the year I couldn’t hang out with him. Finally the year ended and I had three months to collect my thoughts. I didn’t see Eli all summer and he didn’t come back to school the next year. Slowly, I reinserted myself into the school community.
A few years later I saw him out and about on a Friday night. He recognized me right off and came over to talk to me. Either he had forgotten about our fifth grade year, or he had just never hated me for what I did. We spent a few minutes catching up before he went on his way. I haven’t seen him since, but I can never forgive myself for what I did.