I met my “best friend” through mutual friends back in my party, didn’t have a care in the world, daddy pays my credit card bills days. We were both young and had the same lifestyle, we went on trips together, we went to the club every Wednesday night (ladies night whoop whoop) and hung out every weekend, of course drinking and posting all of our photos on Myspace.  There are a few weekends where I don’t even remember what happened, I just know I woke up at her house and my makeup from the night before was smeared on her pillows.  Our group of friends was pretty broad, we hung out with everyone and we were the girls that people would call to see if we were going to this person’s party or that person’s party.  If people found out we were there, they would show up.  It was like we were small town celebrities, and we loved the attention.  It was like that for a while until she came to me and told me that she was pregnant.  I was shocked, we had these great plans to party our lives away and live on some remote island with nothing but booze and boys, how are we going to do that now? I stayed as supportive as possible, but I will admit I backed off hanging with her, I didn’t call her every three seconds to see what the plan was for the night, and I didn’t see her on the weekends anymore. I hosted a shower, because I thought that was what “best friends” did, and I hated it.  She was changing and I wasn’t, she had to grow up and I still wanted to be lost in Neverland with all our friends.  She moved in with her mom shortly after she got pregnant, she needed support because sometimes guys don’t always stick around, and in this case neither did her “best friend.”

Nine months is long time for many changes to take place, she got pregnant and I got a job with an Oil & Gas Company in Houston.  My wardrobe changed and so did my attitude; it was more about money and making better choices for me, I started to see that growing up wasn’t going to be as bad as I thought.  I moved out and got my own place, it was a small space but it was mine and I loved coming home to my own place.  My group of friends shifted, I stopped going out every weekend because who the heck can afford that?  So your telling me that if I don’t pay this bill on time I have to pay an additional $35, nope..no sir not happening.  I was becoming my parents, scary thought I know, but I liked it.  Bestie had finally had her baby, I bought her daughter a cute little outfit and held her, and she was a doll.  I had already come to terms that my life was different now and so was hers; I never expected to get a call from her one Wednesday night a few weeks later asking me to go out.  She said she needed a break, that being a mom was hard and she just wanted to go for a drink.  I agreed and we met at our old hang out.  We still knew some people there and we had a good time, but I had to wake up the next morning and go to work.  She stayed behind.  Weekend after weekend, Wednesday night after Wednesday night she called.  “Let’s go drink” was her normal call, sometimes it would be that she stayed home all week and needed a break from her daughter.  Most of the time I couldn’t, I either didn’t have the extra cash, or I had to work.  How can you be tired of being a mom?  You need to stay home all week; she is your child I thought to myself.

It was then I started to see that yes she got pregnant, but she never actually grew up.  She still wanted that life that we had before, and I couldn’t anymore.  And to be honest I didn’t want too.   I had met a great guy, and felt like maybe settling down was the next step for me. She beat me to it, and married a guy that she had known after 2 weeks, and then she proceeded to have 2 children with him, while still living that party lifestyle.  She was never home and asked me babysit constantly. Her excuse “I need a break” but you just had a break last weekend and the weekend before that.  Our correspondence started to become less and less, my family hated her, and my boyfriend hated her.  I had to take a good long look at our “friendship” and that’s when I realized… I had to cut the ties that we had, and in the end she was the one that handed me the scissors.