Saga: Part III - My Best Friend

I'm really not trying to stall on writing the hardest parts of my story, but as I began to write about what, I thought, was going to be the next part, it dawned on me that I was leaving out an important piece of the puzzle: My Best Friend. Again, before I start into this, my intent is not to drag her through the mud. These are the plain and simple facts. No slant has been put on any information. It's been a wild ride, and everything I'm about to say is the honest truth.

Ten years ago, I met the person who would become my best friend. Four months ago, I talked to her for the last time. We had a friendship that I would defend for a decade and a relationship that nobody understood.

I would start off by saying that I changed her name to protect the innocent, but she is far from that. Her name isn't important anyway. But her role in what would become the hardest part of my life, is.

I met her when I worked at the Courthouse. She was a Clerk and I was a Judge's secretary. She got transferred to my division and we hit it off immediatley. I will never forget our first conversation. She actually came up to me and asked me if I would be interested in a threesome with her and her boyfriend (who was a sergeant on the police force). I wasn't in the least bit offended. I was actually flattered. I've always had an open mind, but, that's just not my thing. I respectfully denied her request, but I was intrigued by her. I couldn't imagine having the self-confidence to allow your boyfriend to be with someone else. That takes some serious guts. Either that, or she's just nuts. I still haven't figured that out.

We had so much fun together. Her boyfriend would get us into almost every concert that came to town and I was excited just to have a "girl friend". I'd never really had one before. We rode to work together every day and I could tell her anything. And, I mean, anything. She was a recovering alcoholic (sober for six years) when I met her. I was proud of her for that. She's eight years older than me - but it always seemed like I was the older one. My life was always together and her's was always a disaster.

I've been with her through six boyfriends, one marriage (her third), her relationship with her daughter (whom she's never had custody of), two dogs (which she gave up every time she left someone), and six suicide attempts (give or take a few). She flys by the seat of her pants and doesn't look back, and it amazes me to this day. She was with me when my niece was born, she always supported me and she always had my back....or so I thought.

When I got engaged to be married, she had just left her husband. So, needless to say, she wasn't really into it. Don't get me wrong. She was happy for me, but it was hard for her. It always seemed like we were at opposite ends of the spectrum. When I'm up, she's down - and visa versa. Of course, I asked her to be in my wedding.

Long story short: She didn't show up. She actually ditched my wedding. I was devastated. My best friend of five years blew off my big day. She did, however, show up at the reception; about two hours late, drunk off her ass (remember, she was a recovering alcoholic) and made a fool out of herself. She did drugs in the men's bathroom with the husband of one of our friends and my dad walked in. As a matter of fact, the entire reception knew about it....but me. Nobody wanted to tell me because they didn't want to ruin my day, and because they all knew that I would have went off. She ended up getting locked up that night for a DUI (which wasn't her first OR her last). She's been on a drugging/drinking binge ever since that night.

I didn't talk to her for a year after that. I'm not a total bitch, but c'mon. That's an awful thing to do to your best friend. It seemed like after we made up, she would only call me when she wanted something. Of course, I was just happy to have my friend back. I'm not saying she used me or anything. The only thing that I had to give her was my friendship.

By this time she had moved into an apartment above Tam's (blog famous bar). I hope you all see where this is going. LOL

I wasn't very happy about this because she's an alcoholic and the last thing she needs is to live above a bar. She's had a rough life. Her first husband beat the hell out of her. She gave birth to her daughter with two black eyes. Her second husband (also an alcoholic) died of liver disease. They had already been divorced, but remained close. She's always had issues. I guess I thought I could save her.

We had a friendship where we could go a few weeks without talking, but we always knew we were there for each other. I would go to see her from time to time, but I never went into the bar. I would just go upstairs and visit with her in her apartment. In a year's time, she had been through about four guys from the bar, in addition to a guy in my dad's band. I have never been that type of person, but I knew that she was pretty easy like that. I never judged her...it just wasn't me. It also kind of made me mad, because she was starting stuff between the guys...people who had been friends for years. After a few months, I started going down to the bar with her on occasion for a drink or two, but never stayed long.

Anyway, back in December of last year, my husband was in Florida for work. I decided that I was going to surprise him and fly down for a few nights. My best friend had never been anywhere, so I decided to surprise her with a plane ticket. It made me feel good. I was excited that we would get to go somewhere together for some girl time, and that I could make that happen.

Long Story Short: She gets arrested at the airport for drugs. There I am, standing in the terminal. By best friend in handcuffs and a plane ticket in my hand. I was stunned. I had no idea she had drugs stuffed down her pants (and in her bra). The cops are hauling her off and I'm yelling for her. I didn't know what to do. She told me that she would kick my ass if I didn't get on that plane. She added that there was nothing I could do and that she didn't want me to waste BOTH tickets. I felt like shit.

I got on the plane. Went to Florida. Had a terrible time. And came home.

By the time I got back to town, I didn't even want to think about what she had told everyone. Come to find out....she blamed it all on me. These people didn't even know me and they all hated me. I didn't blame them. She was their friend and they believed her.

I felt so bad for her that I started stopping by more often to hang out and to see if there was anything I could do to help her with her Court troubles.

The day before Christmas Eve, I went to hang out with her after work. We had a terrible snow storm and I was stranded. Not that I minded. Hell, we were above a bar. Needless to say, we went downstairs and proceeded to get shit-faced. That's the night I really started talking to Bryan. (Told ya you'd see where this was headed.)

I ended up going to bed that night before she did. When I woke up the next morning, she told me that she had confided in Bryan about a big change she was about to make. I was really curious. Turns out - she told Bryan that she was addicted to meth, addicted to pot, and addicted to alcohol. She wanted to be put into rehab. With the help of another guy, they signed her in.

I started going to the bar every day to check on her status. The system here is that the person that puts her in, is the only person who can obtain information about how she's doing, etc. I started going to classes at the rehab center and basically devoted every waking moment to making sure she succeeded in her rehabilitation. Meanwhile, I'm starting to really love the people at the bar.

By the time she got out of rehab, I was pretty far gone. Not drinking-wise, but enjoying my time there. (See previous "Epiphany Post".) At that time, I was on a volleyball league and I started bringing my team up there on game nights. I started going there to watch my beloved Cats play...I got sucked in.

This is actually part of the story of me and Bryan, but since she is the reason I started going there in the first place, I felt it appropriate to tell part of it now.

Her boyfriend at this time, was a guy who had been going to the bar for years. I'm not going to slam him - but I don't like him. He has always blamed me for the airport incident, and isn't too nice to me. You would think that after she came forward and everyone knew she had a drug problem, that that would have ended it. But, somehow, it was still my fault. I think he was jealous of her having something besides him.

Their relationship is ridiculous. They make-up and break-up every five seconds. The last time he threw her out, she moved in with another friend of ours. By this time, she's already drinking and drugging again. I am livid, because I practically gave up my old life to help her through this crisis, and it was all for nothing. I had become disgusted with her. She didn't want help. She would never change. And she was toying with another guy in the bar. He also thought he could save her. BIG MISTAKE. She got drunk one night and told her boyfriend about her feelings for this other guy....starting a huge knock-down at the bar. She then proceeds to sit there and let it all happen around her - not making one effort to stop what SHE had started. I got to the point where I didn't even want her there. Funny, considering it was her hang-out to start with. By the end of the night she started a fight with the girl she was staying with - started spitting on people - it was insane. Needless to say, she got barred out and can't come in there anymore. Trust me...a lot of people were relieved. Me, probably more than anyone.

A few weeks later I sat down with her. I told her that she needed to get her life back together. Move in with her parents or something. Just stay away from this guy. She said she would. I told her that if she ever got back with him again - I was done. I couldn't listen to it anymore. She had tried to kill herself over him, among other things. I just couldn't take it. Especially, in addition to my own life, which by this time was in total chaos. She agreed and told me that she wanted to better her life.

Two days after this conversation, she had moved back in with the guy. I haven't talked to her since that day. As time goes on, I hear more and more things that she has said and done, and I have realized that I never knew this girl. She had pretty much lied to me from the very beginning. I guess that is what alcoholics and drug addicts do...but I was devastated. I wear my heart on my sleeve and I always give all of myself in every relationship I'm a part of. My parents never liked her, my other friends couldn't stand her, and my husband didn't understand why I kept defending her. I guess I thought I was her savior. She had always told me that I was the only reason she was still here. That she didn't want to leave me here alone. Now, I realize that most of that was probably drunken or drugged-up conversation on her part. It hurts. My first real friend turned out to be nothing more than a knife through the heart.