Slut. Whore. Man stealer. Scumbag. No-Self-Esteem-Having-Bitch (I made that one up myself because it seemed like something she would say.) These are just a few of the lovely names I\u2019ve been stoned with because for once I did something that made me happy. Do I regret it? Never, and it\u2019s not because I\u2019m na\u00efve enough to think that I\u2019m going to live happily ever after; Nothing is guaranteed in life besides death. It\u2019s because there is nothing worse than living in fear of the future based on the decisions you make in the present. Sure, there are those cynics who claim \u201cThere\u2019s no such thing as love.\u201d But there\u2019s no point in discussing how hypocritical and jaded society has become, this story isn\u2019t about that. It\u2019s about what happens when two people fall in love. This could also be the story of how a so called \u201cbest friend\u201d became an opportunist and leached off of me and my family for months. I\u2019d rather not, there\u2019s no point of verbally ripping her a new one, she does a good enough job at making a fool out of herself all her own. <\/p>\n
\u201cHow could you do this to me Gaby? You know everything he\u2019s done to me, how he\u2019s treated me, what a piece of shit he is. You were supposed to be my friend.\u201d <\/p>\n
She took a trip to Colombia with her son and asked me to keep an \u201ceye\u201d on him, her boyfriend\/baby daddy, or more so keep him company for she believed he would be miserable without her considering he had no friends. Ironically, he had friends, more than she did actually and would have been just fine without my supervision, but we enjoyed each other\u2019s company and I didn\u2019t mind taking on the task of babysitter. Besides, it didn\u2019t hurt that we got along great and he was actually much more fun to hang out with than she had been at the time. Who is she you\u2019re probably asking yourself? Melanie, my \u201cbest friend\u201d at the time, now just a figment of my imagination.
\nWe were inseparable; literally we lived together. As far as she was concerned things were just fine. We were still the same \u201cuna y mugre\u201d (Translation: White on rice. Well, not the exact translation but it\u2019s the same expression.) friends we had been for almost four years. We knew everything about each other; the good bad and the ugly as the clich\u00e9 goes and our friendship was in fact at one point genuine. Unfortunately things were taking a turn for the worse towards the end. We were growing apart, not only as friends but as individuals in general. The saddest part was, I think I was the only one who knew. She was too self-obsessed to realize that things weren\u2019t like before anymore. The same person who I\u2019d do anything for was now becoming someone I had grown to detest. I was annoyed at the person she had become, a superficial hypocrite that turned into the very same thing she once swore she would never become. <\/p>\n
(Oh god look at me, I\u2019m bashing her after promising you this was exactly what I was NOT going to do. Forgive me, my subconscious takes over me and my fingers uncontrollably start typing all of my repressed feelings. I promise to keep myself in
\ncheck so as to not steer my story in the wrong direction.) <\/p>\n
\tSo here we were, my friend Franco that I had known since Junior High School, under the watchful eye of yours truly while his girlfriend\/baby mama\/ my \u201cbest friend\u201d was off in Colombia getting lipo–Literally this was the purpose of the trip I\u2019m not even trying to be funny. Add in the fact that we had great chemistry, plus it was the beginning of summer; It was a recipe for disaster. But the good kind of disaster. The kind that makes you feel alive because it just feels so right. The type that gives you butterflies in your stomach whenever you see each other. The type that causes you to feel like nothing else matters besides that present moment in time when you\u2019re together. The kind where you find the most minimal excuse to see each other. The type that leads you to do crazy things. Maybe too crazy. But then again, is it crazy to fall in love with your best friend\u2019s boyfriend? I wouldn\u2019t call it crazy. Perhaps inconsiderate, selfish, fucked up, or just plain wrong. But not crazy. What would\u2019ve been crazy was if we had done nothing about how we were feeling towards each other. And that\u2019s exactly what we did. We did something crazy, kept quiet about the obvious attraction we had for each other. <\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t believe I trusted you. You stabbed me in the back after everything we\u2019ve been through. How could you be so stupid? Did you forget everything he\u2019s done to me and now you\u2019re fucking him?<\/p>\n
\tTheir relationship was stale, for a long time. The amount of disrespect between the two of them stretched far beyond mending the relationship. Then again they had a child, and who wouldn\u2019t do their very best to at least give it a try? \u201cFor the baby\u201d, sad but it\u2019s the only thing that gave him any incentive to stay together. That and memories. Memories of what once was, which was in fact beautiful but at the same time unobtainable anymore. She hated him. Made it clear every single time the topic came up which was ALL the time. It was a \u201cLet\u2019s roast Franco\u201d conversation anytime he\u2019s name would be brought up. Her motives for being with him were disingenuous but at the same time smart I guess; money, security, comfort, revenge. She was with him for every other reason besides love. There was no love between them, on the contrary there was disdain and it was something quite uncomfortable to be around. You know that tension in the room when two people can\u2019t stand each other and you just so happen to awkwardly find yourself trapped in the middle? Yeah, that was my position in the whole mess. Both of them would tell me how much they hated each other, and every time I thought to myself, \u201cWhy are they still together?\u201d They were already cheating on each other, why not just end it and move on with life. Then again making a decision as such take a certain level of maturity which at the time neither of them were up for.<\/p>\n
It was late Saturday night, a night that will forever be engrained in my memory, for it was a turning point in my life. Fast forward Melanie\u2019s arrival from Colombia, us having a falling out and ending our friendship(I\u2019ll spare you the details because it\u2019s irrelevant to my story and I know you\u2019re smart enough to conclude that it was her fault), her moving out of my apartment, her breaking up with her baby\u2019s daddy, and finally her moving in with her co-worker. All this in the course of just a couple of weeks, and the whole while me and Franco were still hanging out, even after her arrival and hence the end of my babysitting duties. He was no longer with Melanie and I was no longer her friend; it\u2019s as if the stars were aligned in our favor.<\/p>\n
Cheesy I know but believe me if you\u2019re ever lucky enough to fall in love, you know what I\u2019m talking about. We mustered up the courage to finally admit to each other why these butterflies were in our stomachs when we saw each other, not because we had bad sushi for dinner, but because we were falling in love with each other and we knew that this was a terrible thing. Terrible because of what people would say, what our parents would think, our friends, our neighbors, society in general. But then again, why was that important. If you live your life worried about what others are going to say about you, well then you might as well be their servants. <\/p>\n
\tWe decide to follow our hearts and be together, fully conscience that it was not going to be easy. She did the whole nine; verbally slaughtered me through the phone, threated to inflict physical pain towards me, harassed me through email and text. You name anything malicious you could think of to hurt a person, she\u2019s done it. Because that\u2019s the type of person she is. The type that feels satisfaction out of making everyone else miserable all while claiming to be the victim. But like I said, this isn\u2019t about her and how terrible of a person she is, it\u2019s about a love story that to many may seem fucked up, but I wouldn\u2019t have it any other way. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Slut. Whore. Man stealer. Scumbag. No-Self-Esteem-Having-Bitch (I made that one up myself because it seemed like something she would say.) These are just a few of the lovely names I\u2019ve been stoned with because for once I did something that made me happy. Do I regret it? Never, and it\u2019s not because I\u2019m na\u00efve enough […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":28,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-778","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.meadmedia.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/778","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.meadmedia.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.meadmedia.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.meadmedia.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/28"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.meadmedia.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=778"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.meadmedia.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/778\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":779,"href":"http:\/\/www.meadmedia.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/778\/revisions\/779"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.meadmedia.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=778"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.meadmedia.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=778"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.meadmedia.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=778"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}