Crista, 19, Libra, Chemistry Major, UIC, Chi-city Subs, Introvert, Awkward, Musical Instruments, model@Gillly Hicks, Mostly Filipino
This blog is honestly, truly me.
4/13/12 ❤

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These are my friends, and I’m glad to have them.  Happy birthday Kittyy! Meow :3 #friendship #chicago #birthday

I like my friends.

I know I’m not a social butterfly.  I know that I don’t have a wide variety of friends.  I have a couple friends, but I’d rather have a couple of close friends than a variety of friends whom I barely know personally.

I’m thankful for the friends I have, and I want our children to marry. 

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My old friend.

For almost-privacy purposes, I will be renaming the people besides myself.

This friend was really silly, outgoing, social and lovable.  I’ve known her since kindergarten through high school.  We don’t talk much anymore in college, but I would still consider her an old friend.  So…let’s call her Betty. (LOL)

Throughout grade school, we were really close friends, until high school came around.  Freshman year, we talked a lot.  Then came sophomore year.  We became very distant that year.  Actually, we had a group of friends (4: Betty, Ebony, Margaret, and Me, Crista).  We would always try to hangout even though we went to different schools.  One day, I was hanging out with her, and we were driving. I asked why our other friend, Ebony (LOL), didn’t come.  Then Betty told me that she was no longer best friends with her.  I asked why and she would not tell me.  I kept asking why, and I could tell that she was serious.  She really was serious about not wanting me to know.  Her face was totally different from what it usually was.  I thought that she was about to cry from anger.  I eventually stopped, and the day went on. Ever since then, I didn’t forget about it, but it was only in the back of my mind.  

Now, in this class senior year, there was this thing called the “pomindium” or the “podium.”  I really don’t know the name, but it is full of quotes people say in class, and these quotes are really, needless to say, dumb quotes.  Betty was also known as being very random, and I guess loopy.  This is why I liked her because whenever we were together, we were just like that, laughing all the time.  Since she was a very clumsy person, these guys made fun of her, saying, “Why would she do that? She’s SUCH a dumbass!” or like, ‘She’s so stupid.”  Whenever I heard them say that, it made me feel sick.   She didn’t care though.  She stood up for herself, or at least tried.  She was basically friends with all the girls in the class, so they all backed her up.  One thing that made me sick was not only because they called her a dumbass and teasing her once and a while, but it’s because they called her that, unknowing this one thing that all of the girls knew, and not the boys.  

During senior year, there is this retreat (I went to a Catholic School) where a select few juniors go on a retreat with seniors.  These select full juniors would become leaders in the next retreats when they are seniors.  It was only girls.  The boys had their separate retreat.  Betty went on this retreat her junior year, and became a leader senior year, while I only went on my senior year.  When she came back from her retreat junior year, she changed.  I don’t know what about her changed, but I could tell that she had.  Since then, she has been very close to Catholicism.  

Now came my turn senior year.  I wasn’t excited about it because the thought of sleeping in my own room that basically looked like a room in the scary movies scared me.  I also didn’t feel like living for 4 days and 3 nights with some people that I really didn’t care for.  Apparently you are supposed to let out everything, and when I mean everything, I mean EVERYTHING.  Everything from past stories, to deep dark secrets.  The ones that make you cry and fall to your knees, and make you feel judged if you tell them.  

Every leader (juniors that went on the retreat junior year) told their story, which included their deep dark secrets.  The other leaders were friends that I knew, but not very well.  At the end of their stories, we would give them a hug and say, “You’re loved.” Their stories were sad, but didn’t hit me very hard to the verge of me crying, but then came Betty.  When she told her story,  I thought it was going to be funny, but it was the total opposite.  Her story hit me the hardest.  I tried to hold back my tears, biting my lip. When I went to give her a hug, I burst into tears, trying to make out words, but I couldn’t.

So I’ll tell you the main part of her story, but I’ll try to summarize it just as if she were saying it.

Betty said: 

The day sophomore year, I was going to meet my friend at the mall.  My parents dropped me off around the afternoon, and didn’t suspect me to be done until a couple hours later.  I was there alone in the mall waiting for my friend, until I get a text from her saying, “Hey, I can’t come today.  I’m sorry.”  I couldn’t go home because my brother was at a friends house, my parents and my younger sister were at a family party, and my older sister was at work.  No one could pick me up, so I just stayed at the mall by myself.  I got bored, so I walked outside.  I was just walking around, until this man bumped into me.  I remember waiting for him to say sorry, but then he grabbed tighter and wouldn’t let go.  After that, I got shoved into the back of a van.  I hit my head and was knocked out unconscious.  When I woke up, I was in the middle of an abandoned parking lot of a restaurant, with my pants and underwear on the floor.  I was half naked.  I stood there not knowing what just happened.  I couldn’t soak it in.  I sat there for a while.  Then I realized I’ve just been raped. I lost my virginity. I wasn’t too far from my friend’s house only about two miles away, so I put my pants back on, and ran to her house.  I stayed there until my parents could pick me up.  I never had the courage to tell my family.  The first one I told was my sisters, then my parents.  Telling my brother is probably the hardest person to tell.  After that, I could tell that my parents felt like failures knowing that their daughter just got raped.  After that I was so insecure about myself physically and mentally, like why did they choose to rape me? I’m not even pretty, and I wasn’t even asking for it. (Shes a tomboy c:)

The first reason that it hit me so hard was because I went without knowing this about one of my best old friends.  I felt like I let her down, and I wasn’t there for her.  I wasn’t there for her because I was being too selfish (during sophomore year, I got into a phase where I decided to not talk in school because I hated it so much). 

The other reason that it hit me so hard was because it resolved my old question that I asked her so many times sophomore year in the car. “Why aren’t you and Ebony best friends anymore?” It wasn’t because she ditched her, but it was because she ignored her when Betty tried to tell her, her deepest secret.  Betty tried to tell Ebony that she just got raped, but Ebony turned her back on her, and said that she was busy with her problems and didn’t feel like hearing hers.  When she told me that, it hit me hard.  The pieces were all coming together.

Now, knowing her story, wouldn’t you feel bad for her, too? I just wish that they would know.  I just want to know how bad they would feel if they knew.

 

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I see you.

By ignoring me and my little attempts to mend the friendship we once had.  Most of the time, friendships do not last.  Okay.  The most important thing that brought us together was school, and now that we are going to a new environment, that bond will dissipate.  I’ll accept.  To be honest, I don’t think we had much in common.  I’m sorry that you can’t get over me hanging out with someone you despise so much.  Life is to short to be hung and be upset over little things that I cannot change, so I’ll move on with my life.  You made your move, so I’ll make mine.  I see you.

+ 1

There’s this guy. He’s become a very great friend to me, but he is so much more than a friend to me at the same time :)

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An old friend.

We didn’t go to the same school.  We met each other because our siblings were best friends, too.  I remember going to her house all day and eating her mom’s cooking for dinner, which was delicious c:  I really liked her house because it gave out that homey vibe. We would walk around her neighborhood, see other neighbors, go to the park or the stores around it or walk to starbucks.  I miss doing activities like that.   I do miss her friendship, but I don’t think it will ever be the same as it used to be because we both changed so much.

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WOOOOOOOW. Do I feel hated by the people I thought were my friends or what?

I know they’re not going to see this.  Because none of them have a tumblr.  Shows how different I am to them.  I guess they have to have someone to ostracize from their ‘clique,’ and they decide that that person would be me.  Thanks ‘friends.’  You’re basically stabbing me in the back and saying, “Fuck you for life.”    Each and every single one of you probably think, “I’m to good for that shit,” whenever you see my face.  It hurts, and I bet you’ve never felt how I feel now.  To see someone look down on you.  To see them walk away.  To see them talk about you.  To see someone exclude you from their plans, but say their plans right to your face anyway like you’re not even there.  I hope one day, you will feel the way I feel now.  I hope it’ll hit you harder than it hit me.

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I’m sorry.

Just because I’m really quiet around you doesn’t mean I don’t hate you.  It just means that I like to listen to what you say and when I respond with short answers, I just don’t know what to say because I’m amazed and my mind is blank. 

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Why is it always me who reaches out to you?

I’m tired of this bullshit.  I won’t bother you anymore.

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