Sophia Ahmed.
I'm not quite sure what to say here. I know it'll find a way to come out all wrong and I'm going to hate myself for it, but here goes nothing.
I remember the first day I met you, Sophia. It was in seventh grade when we were twelve years old. We were put into the same room for the honors society trip to Catalina because we had some mutual friends, and I remember vividly that we hit it off on the very first day. In fact, I've never connected with a person as quickly as I did with you. We were nearly inseparable for the next few days as we went snorkeling and learned about the ocean and went in the maze. Those few days were some of the most wonderful days of my life. We grew apart after the trip, though, simply because we weren't in any of the same classes and had no reason to see eachother. But still, I thought about you.
We didn't reconnect until summer school '04. I wasn't very close with anybody in the class, so I was thrilled when you walked in the door. We hit it off again instantly, and I've never had as much fun in school as I did those six weeks with you. We must have produced hundreds of inside jokes on the first day alone. I was amazed by your brilliance and wit, and I was thrilled that you wanted to spend so much time with me. Likewise, I was shocked when you persisted to tell me how amazing and hilarious you thought I was. I respected and admired you, and you respected and admired me right back. In those few short weeks in Mr. Sale's class, you became my best friend. I'd had very close friendships before, and even a few "best" friends over the years, but never before had I had such a strong bond with someone. You became my other half. We decided that were separated at birth; I was the albino edition and you were the brown edition. We created our shared livejournal, we_were_salers. Nearly every post I made over the next year was about you, and vice versa. Even though you went to Calabasas, we remained closer than ever. We IMed eachother every day and you helped me with my fear of phones by calling me and talking to me for hours at a time. You even tried to switch schools so you could go to Agoura. That never ended up happening. I forget why.
Somehow, we grew apart. I introduced you to my brother and his friends, who introduced you to more friends, who introduced you to still more friends. To this day, I'm not exactly sure what happened to us. I guess you just moved on to bigger and better things. Maybe it made you feel cool to be hanging out with older kids. I don't know. When I first realized we were growing apart, I held my head up high and tried not to mind. You were still my best friend, and I thought nothing would change that. We were best friends forever. A friendship like that couldn't just die, could it?
Evidently, it could. You found your way into the fascinating world of partying and drugs, while I stayed with my core group of friends from middle school. I stayed sober, and you stayed anything but. I'm not even sure what you got into besides cocaine. Morphine, I've heard. Who knows? I guess now I'll never be able to ask you.
It really hurt me when you ditched me entirely. Whenever people would bring you up, I would answer with an eyeroll. I pretended I didn't care that our friendship fell apart, but deep down, I missed you more than I had ever missed anyone or anything. I remember not being invited to your last birthday party, which hurt me more than you probably realized. I was angry that you decided I wasn't worthy of being friends with you anymore, but every time you would IM me out of the blue, my heart would leap with joy. Time and time again, I felt like my best friend was back. Until you left me again a few days later, of course. It was a dreadful cycle, but I hoped that one day, we'd reunite once more and our bond would be stronger than ever.
Ironically enough, our last conversation was about how you thought we should reinstate our friendship. You came to me timidly and got really excited when I told you I thought it was a good idea. At that moment, I forgave you for everything. I was just so happy that you wanted to be friends with me again. We made elaborate plans about how we'd meet every other week to catch up. The months passed by and our plans never came through, but it puts me at peace a little to know that I was in your thoughts as much as you were in mine.
I'll never forget the moment when Hannah and Jenny approached me, crying, and Hannah announced, "Maggie...Sophia Ahmed committed suicide." I started shaking uncontrollably and screaming and crying. I couldn't believe it. I never thought that something like this would happen to me. It helped a lot when we learned that it wasn't actually suicide, but that you'd been sick with some sort of nasal problem due to drug use and your heart stopped. Or something. I still don't really know how you passed away, but I've heard that it was painlessly and in your sleep. The fact that it couldn't have really been helped at that point makes me feel better, but the emptiness inside me hasn't left. I'm not sure where I've been the last couple of days. I'd be lying if I said I was okay. I'm not. I've mostly surrounded myself with friends, but every time I'm alone, I return to my shell of misery as nostalgia takes over and I remember the tale of the "randumb" young salers. It physically hurts as I discover little ironies in your livejournal posts, such as your "::dies:: ...and this time it wasn't randumb." post from exactly two years ago today. I feel so incomplete, as though a part of me has been torn away. And I suppose, metaphorically, it has. Even though we grew apart, you were still "the other me" for a significant period of my life.
This entry is turning epic, and for the first time, it doesn't bother me one bit. I don't care if nobody is reading this. I don't care if this is taking up precious space on your friends page. This is for me.
I miss you, Sophia. I know that the deceased are always missed right after they die, but I've subconsciously been in a perpetual "missing Sophia" state since the day that I noticed I was no longer one of your livejournal interests. I know how stupid that sounds, but that day was the painful day when it actually hit me that you hardly considered me an acquaintance any more. What hurt more was when I noticed that "gordon anderson" and several other things associated with him remained on that list. More than anything, I wanted you to care about me again, and I regretted ever introducing you to Gordon and his friends. You'd always tell me that you'd be nowhere without me, and that if you hadn't met me, your life wouldn't be anywhere near where it is today. My heart sinks as I wonder if you'd still be alive if we were never friends. Maybe you'd still be the bright, hilarious girl who you were when I met you, with so much potential and such a promising future. I know this isn't my fault. It isn't anybody's fault. But it still bothers me as your voice echos in my mind, "I wouldn't be where I am today if I'd never met you..."
I'll never forget you, Sophia Ahmed. The shock is wearing off and it's slowly sinking in that you've left me for good. I'll never forget the days where we were "Sale-ers" and I met my first true best friend. I won't forget how much you raved about your baby sister Maria and how beautiful and smart she is. I won't forget Ashley Kutcher, or the green pencil, or cens*rshipism, or ode to gordon, or our list of words that end in "ation", or our love of peanut butter, or that day we went to Magic Mountain and posed for the camera that wasn't actually there, or rock day, or stick day, or the plate game, or slash ricky martin, or any of our other numerous inside jokes. I'm blessed enough to have them all recorded in a christmas card that you gave me, which is six pages long and filled front to back.
A few snapshots of our glory days:
One more thing.
Here's something that I found while looking back at your livejournal posts.
"This post is for Maggie Lee Anderson. Without her i don't know where i would be. Actually, i do. I would be dead."
- May 26, 2004
Ah, bitter irony.
Say hi to my grandpa for me, will ya? It's his birthday today. Tell him I'm sorry that I didn't tell him I loved him when I had the chance. It's a tragic thing, really, that we never realize how much we care about a person until after they're gone.
You've taught me so much since I met you. Before you were my "BFF," I didn't have very many friends and was secretly a really unhappy individual. You taught me how to love life. You taught me how to love others. You taught me how to love myself. I know that sounds terribly cliche, but it's absolutely true.
It makes me smile when I picture where you must be right now. I just know you're up there laughing and having a blast with the other party animals, like Jim Morrison and Abraham Lincoln.
Knock 'em dead, cadet.
[Expressively speaking, of course.]
Rest in peace, babe. I love you.
Sophia Ahmed.
May 4, 1989 - February 16/17, 2006.