Day 13

When I was a kid, my bestie was a girl I knew from kindergarten, and we went to school in the same class. Since today is Saint Lucia’s Day (a Scandinavian tradition), I mentioned that when I was in kindergarten, it was time to pick who Lucia would be; they chose her because she had long blond hair. I was upset because I wanted to be Lucia. My hair wasn’t long enough, but I could be the second Lucia without the crown. My bestie was the best choice, though.

Unfortunately, my bestie moved to another city after first grade. She called me later, but I didn’t want to talk to her. It wasn’t her fault her parents got a job in another city, but I was still upset I lost my bestie. I had friends after that, but it wasn’t the same—not when calling someone a bestie. You don’t get best friends when you become an adult. At least you don’t call them that. I wouldn’t have kept in touch with my bestie anyway. I’m not good at keeping in touch with people. We wouldn’t have anything in common. That ship has sailed decades ago. A lot of things can happen during that time. Who knows if she’s even alive anymore.

Some people look for old friends or relatives, but I’m not interested in the past. I prefer looking forward instead. Why would I want to anyway? They don’t care about me, so why would I care for them? Not even current ones have much time to keep in touch. They have busy lives, and they don’t have time for chit-chat. Maybe a greeting at Christmas or a birthday, but that’s about it. My bestie right now is myself, and who else knows about yourself than you.