This is a personal essay about a lost friendship.
| Having a lifelong friend is a great thing. Someone you can fool around with, play video games with or someone that you know will have your back. You are who you are because of certain relationships, like that of a good friend.
I met Devin in the second grade. We always got along, no matter what. I can only recall one fight the whole time that we knew each other. We were inseparable, we would hang out almost every day. We would sleep over at each other's houses, go to the movies, and talk on the phone about the cute girls in the class. We really were the best of friends.
Then something happened. In the middle of sixth grade year, I had to move to my grandmother's house, which was in the next town over. I had a hard time with it. I still tried to make new friends, but the friendship that Devin and I once had was fading away.
We didn't see a lot of each other for the rest of that year. We would hang out occasionally and talk on the phone but I would say that we were growing apart. We still called each other "Buddy" and knew how to have a good time.
I did go back to school, but it would never be the same. He got new friends. I followed. In 7th grade, I smoked my first cigarette and had my first drink. By 8th grade, I had smoked pot for the first time, and by my sophomore year I was smoking a pack a day.
The thing is. I knew that wasn't what I wanted to do. But I followed. I followed my best friend down the wrong road. I knew I was wrong. I was mad at my self all of the time because I knew the things I was doing were wrong. I was mad that we no longer knew how to go to the movies or roller-skating.
I distanced myself and that was how I dealt with it. I still smoked and drank, just not with Devin. I found a new crowd that was showing me how to do the same things. Times with Devin were scarce. We still hung out once and a while but it was different. We would hang out but all we ever did was smoke and drink. The childhood innocence no longer existed.
I don't blame Devin for what happened. I just wish I had done something then to change the outcome. He is still doing the same stuff, smoking and drinking. I hate going to his house and having him ask me if I want a beer. Maybe everyone thinks I'm a pussy for not wanting to drink. I don't care if they think that, I don't want to drink, it is not me.
I think that I will have a long time to drink and be stupid if I want to. I'm not saying I won't drink, but if I do decide to I'm not going to drink until I can't stand up. One or two is fine.
I guess that I am writing this because I miss Devin. But the truth is I don't know how to tell him how I feel. Until I find a way we won't see a lot of each other. But I hope that I don't have to wait forever. I hope that I can find the words now.