As much as I would like to erase parts of my memory, I cannot. Sometimes I cherish my photographic memory, especially in times of testing or photography. Other times I wish I were blind.
I still remember introducing the two. A bond formed so quickly the answer to who came up with the idea alludes all of us in the story. I had a best friend and a new friend I thought would fit in perfectly. They fit great as new best friends; my old inside jokes and memories just were not enough anymore. I was ditched and these two girls explored a new territory I was unwilling to go to. One introduced the other to new friends of cigarettes and tequila. In return, those friends introduced her to Heroin and Ex.
I would be more involved in work and keeping up with the friends she turned away from, instead of biking across town to her house anymore. After the incident, I would find myself driving past her house on my way home from work praying as I passed and thanking God I had enough gasoline in my truck to make it home most nights.
I still remember her face thinned more with drugs than age had ever done before. Her fingers wavered ever so slightly as her yellowish nails struck the lighter to ignite the flame. She offered both explanations and apologies for her betrayal of my friendship and trust, and like a pressured customer at Walmart I bought the blue light sale item as soon as I recognized the deal. When I was driving home, I remember thinking if I should keep the purchase or return the as-is item for something else. I kept it. And along with it I kept the trust I thought I could give to another best friend for a very long time. No matter how much we both wanted things to go back to how they were, she didn't want to leave behind her new friends. And I knew with my whole heart I could not accept them. It would be 2 years before God blessed me with amazing friends I felt I could trust. I still cherish them so incredably much.
You only get out of something what you put in I've realized. If I put in no trust, how can I expect any in return. But to be lied to and betrayed was a feeling I had to deal with between the painted blue nails and those yellowed ungroomed ones.
She left the drugs and years later we are now in communication again. I suppose tonight, I just had a snipit of my photographic memory come back, and I'm wondering why. Where do I go from here?