This post is part of the April A to Z Blogging Challenge, where I am challenging myself to reflect on other A to Z posts that I come across.
Today’s post is based on this writing prompt from Livre It To Me:
I have a spotty history with best friends.
My grandma had a daycare when my brother and I were little, partly for something to do once she and my Grandpa moved to California, and partly to help out my parents who both had full time jobs. There was only one other girl my age, and she also had a younger siblings. We were instantly best friends. But by the time I started grade school, her family moved away.
My best friend in first grade was really smart. So that’s why her parents arranged for her to skip second grade the next year, and I never saw her again.
I made a new best friend in second grade. Her name was Natalie, and I probably remember her the best out of all of them. One day we were hanging out at my grandparents’ house, because it was walking distance from the elementary school. We were horsing around. I was sitting on the trunk of my grandma’s big white car, and Natalie thought it would be funny to give me a scare, so she grabbed my ankles and give a little tug. Because the car was so high I didn’t have a really stable seat… so I slid right off and landed on the concrete driveway so hard I saw stars and my tailbone hurt for the rest of the day.
Looking back, maybe not that great of a friend.
Anyway, that lasted at least through third grade, when I got it into my head that a third friend of ours was trying to “steal” her from me. (There may have been some babyqueer feelings involved there, but that thought didn’t occur to me until years later. There may also have been some pebble throwing and bad words on my part… I don’t want to talk about it.)
Then I had a best friend in fifth grade, but then my family moved to another side of town and hers moved to Colorado.
I guess I just don’t have very good luck with best friends.