| Friendship |
| The second time I fell in love I was an impressionable fourteen. The young man, whose name I forget was very macho. He worked out at the local gym. I remember every muscular contour on his hard young body. Although the showers at the gym often used to break down, he didn't believe in deodorant. To this day, the pungent smell of a sweating man turns me on more than any after-shave, with their musk of skunk and sperm of whale fixatives. When the young man declared his love for me, I went to great lengths not to tell Rosie, because the first time I fell in love, I had told her everything. Rosie had considered this a challenge. She thought that love was her department, and that first time, my boyfriend soon became her boyfriend, although I forget his name too. There is an amnesiac quality to my memory of old beaus but I always remember a friendship. This is not as hard as you might think. Rosie had been my best friend from kindergarten to Grade 12. Our mothers had met in the maternity ward and took us everywhere when we were babies. We lost touch for a couple of years. We met again in kindergarten where I huddled in a quiet corner until Rosie pounced. "Do you want to be my friend?" she asked. "Y-Yes," I breathed quite overcome by her presence. "Will you do everything I tell you to do?" she demanded. "Okay," I said. And I did. I did everything that Rosie told me to do for the next 13 years. Rosie told me to do so many things that I didn't notice that she was only a child. Rosie expected me to walk in her shadow, I didn't know she couldn't make me do that. Rosie wanted the power and the glory and I never questioned her. But when I was fourteen, some instinct told me to fight for my second chance at romance. The trouble was that I wanted the romance and the friendship. I didn't know much about intrigue and found it hard to meet my love without arousing Rosie's suspicions. My ill-fated romance died from neglect. It was hard for the young man to understand, when I wouldn't acknowledge his existence when my best friend was in sight. I had only thought to protect my love affair from Rosie's grasp. I didn't know that other girls would be eager to be embraced by his rippling muscles. He didn't suffer long. One day he vowed his eternal love, and the next day he was parading a petite blonde around the schoolyard. His eyes avoided me as we passed, There was no discussion. There was no discussion with Rosie either, but I think she knew that she was partly responsible for my loss. I learned my lesson then, the second time I fell in love. And so the second time I got married, I did not invite Rosie. She had been the maid-of-honor at my first wedding. She had comforted me through two difficult pregnancies and listened to all my marital woes. "He doesn't understand you," she would sympathize "Men are so full of themselves." One evening I came home from a class in Philosophy. The house was empty. Rosie had run away with my husband, my children and my precious collection of tapes. Rosie didn't take long to realize her mistake. She returned the children, who I welcomed back with enthusiasm. She tried to return my husband but I didn't fancy him any more, especially when I knew where he had been! She kept the tape collection. Rosie turned up at my second wedding, uninvited and unwelcome. She was no longer attractive and my new friends ignored her. Her fast life had rushed her into premature aging, sun wrinkles lined her face, and excessive drinking had bloated her stomach and padded her hips, She looked lonely. I could see no vestige of the Rosie I used to know. I don't know why she came. My new husband only had eyes for me. He regarded Rosie with complete indifference, the most insulting emotion of all. Rosie came to me after the ceremony. Her speech was slurred. She was drunk. "You have to do ever'thing I tell you," she said carefully "if you wanna be my friend." "That's okay," I said. And I knew we would never meet again. |
| ROSIE AND ME |
| The End of our Friendship |
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