Monologue #1

I can still remember how it all began. It was years ago in grade six at our schools first dance. As a young male of thirteen I believed myself to be invincible, the chosen one. But I believe that is something all young people believe. Like innocence it fades with time. To anybody else it wouldn't qualify as being romantic, it was just her asking me to slow dance to a song. But she was the first girl to ever do that, and to this day I can remember what song it was, what she looked like back then and how the world seemed to shrink till it was only us. After that we were friends, she of the abusive family and depression, me of the popular kids and loving family. All throughout middle school we were friends, never afraid to call on another in times of need.

Then high school arrived, with all its accursed drama and responsibilities. She never liked me the same way I liked her. You have to understand, to me she was my world. She was all I cared about. But to her, I was only a best friend, a brother. It took me a  long time to accept that. I still remember the feeling of my fist going into her first boyfriends face at a party. Me shouting obscenities at him as he lay on the ground. They broke up not long after that. We fought many times. I didn't approve of her foray into drugs and older men, and she hated my criticisms. There were times where we went months without talking, then out of nowhere we would meet and our friendship would blossom again.

I suppose you could say she is the source of all my problems today; smoking, drinking and my inability to grow close to anybody else. But for me those don't matter, I have her and she has me and that's what's important. I won't tell you her name, she's not the social type. But she's the type of girl who sits in the back of the class, the girl who wears black and long sleeves on sunny days. She's the girl everybody ignores and doesn't think twice about. But to me she is my best friend, that one person I want to talk to everyday.