Thoughts

Gabriella

I hate Gabi.

And no, it's not because she's a mean narcissist who finds pleasure in the demeaning of inferiors to her beauty and social statuses. It also has nothing to do with the fact that she always had to go and take the boy I fancied in school even if she didn't like him.

No, the real reason I hate Gabi is because she is the complete and utter reflection of what I want to be.

Don't get me wrong through. It's not like I really hate her or anything like that. It's just that I find it weird how she is always there with me no matter where I go. I once told on her to my parents and they looked as if they were about to cry. I didn't bring it up after that. I guess it all started in Elementary when I saw her in the restroom. Even as a child, I could tell she was gorgeous. Nothing about that beautiful tan on her skin, the incredible topaz colored eyes and satin black eyes hinted at lack of self esteem.

In fact, that had been my problem with Gabi. She had way too much self esteem.

I don't know why I was still friends with her after all those times she made me look like a complete fool. Once, she switched Becky Summer's conditioner with glue and the poor girl had to shave her entire head just to get it out. Somehow, I got blamed for the incident even when I was sure I told the girl not to.

It gets hard dealing with an insufferable know-it-all who finds joy in dismantling each and every moment of serenity around her.

But Gabi is the only one who understands me. I live for the moments when she tells me that I am beautiful even when I know that I am not. She understands the broken mess that is Ella Suarez. That's why the only friend I have had for twenty years of my life is the lunatic beauty that is Gabi.

In a sense, I see that the attention accorded to her over the years has morphed from admiration to caution and finally complete fear. Gabi had the worst time imaginable when we went to college. I had expected her to be the bane of coolness in the campus. Be one of the social stars on the scene. But every night she was in the bathroom crying her eyes out at something a boy she was with did. Seeing Gabi like this, it reminded me of my high school years.

I wanted to help my friend. She was more than just a friend now to me. She was my sister in all forms of the word that wasn't by blood.

It wasn't long before she resorted to trying to numb the pain away with depressants. She was wasting away in all that beauty she had once prized as her most beautiful feature. I was the only one who could help her. But it was difficult. Juggling between making sure Gabi is safe and school became impossible. We had to go our separate ways.

She told me I was never anything to her. Insults so deep that I could not hold back the bile I felt for all those years she took the limelight from me. She said she would never come to see me again. To her, I was as good as dead. When she banged that door shut, it was almost similar to the tear I felt in my soul. It took this much separation from Gabi for me to realize how much she meant to me.

But I had to live me life. She was a tie to a failed past and I was not about to let it hinder my chances at a good life.

The turnaround was remarkable. I was finally living my life. I finally found friends in college, graduated and even got married to the man of my dreams. The sensational high was peaked when I bore my daughter. The first time I saw her, she was such a tiny thing, yet she had the most exquisite topaz color in her eyes that I had to remember my lost sister.

I had spoken before to my husband about Gabi. I asked him if there was any way he could track her down. It was the kind of business he did and no one was better skilled than he. But Gabi was impossible to find. She had simple vanished from the face of the earth. I didn't want to believe it, but all the evidence my husband had uncovered was pointing at only one conclusion.