Put It On Paper.

Wren

April 2006 - 16 years old.

"I don't think you quite understand how expensive it is to raise a child with taste like yours Wren, all I'm asking is that you pick up some part time work."

"Dad still pays for most of my things mom."

"Well he doesn't pay for the house. I do. I need you to do this for me sweetheart. Mr.Carpenter said he had an opening at the hardware, he wants you to stop by for an interview after school tomorrow."

"Ugh, fine, I'll do it."

"Thank you."

My mom had been on my back for a couple of weeks by then about getting a job. I wish I knew then all of the things that she sacrificed for me at that time. My dad was good to me, but it was her that put every penny she had into making sure we could stay in the house I had grown up in, and I never so much as thanked her. Not until I understood.

I was drowning at school. Not academically, but socially, and at that age it felt catastrophic. It wasn't easy trying to keep your spot in the upper echelons of high school hierarchy.
Half of my friends and lost their virginity by now and I was still clutching to that make out session I'd had with Travis Bennet.
I had no boyfriend, in fact I'd never even been close to it. The girls were starting to notice my reluctance now too. I could hear them whispering about me in the locker rooms. Frigid. That's the word they'd used. I was overwhelmed with the pressure.

I met with Mr.Carpenter, like my mom asked, he told me I could start the next day. I actually felt a little relieved. I was going to be able to have an excuse for missing outings and parties now. My reluctance to join the ranks of my peers would be easier to hide.

I had become somewhat of a master of illusion over the last year and a half. The Wren I put forward was merely there to ensure I didn't fall into the shadows. I didn't want to become a victim of circumstance. The girls I was friends with waited like vultures for me to make one wrong move and fall from the pedestal I had cheated my way onto.

I didn't want to become a nobody, so I got tougher, meaner. If anybody questioned my lack of interaction with guys I'd cut their legs from under them like it was a sport. I flirted just enough to satisfy their curiosity.

The truth was, that I was struggling with the next steps. They all scared me. I didn't like anyone I met enough to take it anywhere. And I didn't understand why I had to either. To please other people? No way.

That was the sticking point for me. The fact other people even needed to know. After the whole Tre thing, with everyone watching on and waiting, I didn't want to embarrass myself again.
What was worse, was that I didn't have anyone to talk to about it now either.

➰

Hi Bear.

It's been another month and we still haven't spoken. I'm coming up on a year and a half since we have and I am still as broken up about it as I was then. I wish we could have just forgotten about it like we always did. Why are we both so stubborn?

This is my thirty sixth letter. Notes became impossible to jot down and not give you. So I began writing letters, I tuck them away under my bed, along with half of the things you gave me.

It's weird not having a best friend anymore. I think that's why I do this. I think sometimes if I write a question down, your voice will come to me with an answer...it's yet to happen though.
Maybe next time.