Main Entry: fair-weather Function: adjective 1 : loyal only during a time of success
I spent 6 years by your side, up until the day you grew up in High school. I can't really complain, maturity affects us all differently, but you made senior year a trial for me. When Andy's affection towards me was appearent, you took it. I let go, found John, found love. Every enemy of yours was mine, including the man you called an unfeeling monster to me in private, but still call friend today. Do I mind being the one you ranted to when all was bad? Nah. I did the best I could going through me own maturity. You pulled away farther and farther, as our "cliques" became better defined and less closely entwined. But I'd call when I had the time. You had too many friends from collage visiting, though, and every time I invited you out you were sick. John's Birthday bash two years ago I BEGGED you to come over, to get away from Andy for a little while, and finally you relented. And met Schramm. To which, you've never actually given me credit. Did I care? A little. But I could deal. I was a friend. Then came the cannibus, and Eric's friends. Bit by bit, the peices of the girl I knew vanished, and the sweet, teacher-wannabe, child-loving, fun but just a little too shy to get out there on her own girl was growing up. But so was I. So I dealt with it. And tried to call. But you never answered my calls, and "never got my messages, your phone was being wacky." Must have been intercepted by those friends from collage. Then Eric got arrested, on a game night. You came over, and waited. So we cancelled the game, and tried to comfort you. We accepted a $6.00 collect call so you could reach Eric in prison, and never asked for you to reimberse us. And you know? You never even thanked us for that night. Was I pissed? Eh. You had your own shit going on. So for a little while, I let it lie. Maine became possible, and I invited you. But you couldn't get off work, and "I never told you what week we were going." Must have dissapeared with those phonecalls and Collage friends. So we had a blast, and I got over my irritation over it. Of couse, when I came home I found out what a bad guy I was, I finally got really pissed. Sue me, I'm grown up. My 21'st birthday came and went, the birthday we'd planned for years, and did you even suck it up and call to wish me a happy birthday? Nah. But I sure as hell came to yours. It was supposed to be special, remember? Oh well, such is life. I wrote a birthday card with all my heart and memories in it, and you seemed to actually be moved. Guess I hadn't caught on to what a good liar you were. We invited you to the game at your request. I was fucking Thrilled, now you actually, after the last three years, WANTED to spend actual time around me. But I guess you hated that. Can I blame you? Nah, you grew up. Whatever. You lied to me on the phone, a blatent fucking lie, and when I called you on it, you didn't even have the decency to fess-up. You said it was your neighbor. Lame, meg, I know your neighbors. I grew up three blocks away, remember? And then Schramm took the hit for the lie, and you never even apologised. Whatever. I joked about it at his birthday party (which we attended, pity your annaversary fell on Johns. Interesting coincidence?) and tried to let it all slide. But I'm done. Tired, grown up. Your right, we have different cliques, you've seen to that. John never even hears from Schramm anymore. Pity, they were such great friends before he met you. But people grow apart, it's cool. Just don't ever come back into my life, okay? Don't reply, don't comment, don't talk about me. Erase this post if it makes you feel better about yourself; makes it easier to tell the lies. I'm out, done. I have no more pity or compassion for you, no more handouts, friendly or otherwise. J and Eric can be whoever they want with each other, but don't come over to our house when I'm home.
Don't call, don't write. Good luck in life, I hope you really do well in this newspaper gig. Don't fuck it up like you did collage, 'cause my mom went out on a limb for you here. Don't FUCK with my family, and I'll stay away from yours. When you're old, I hope this era causes no regret for you, I really do. Because I am more happy and light hearted at typing this than I have been since Senior year. Later, hopefully Never,
Function: adjective
1 : loyal only during a time of success
I spent 6 years by your side, up until the day you grew up in High school. I can't really complain, maturity affects us all differently, but you made senior year a trial for me. When Andy's affection towards me was appearent, you took it. I let go, found John, found love. Every enemy of yours was mine, including the man you called an unfeeling monster to me in private, but still call friend today. Do I mind being the one you ranted to when all was bad? Nah. I did the best I could going through me own maturity. You pulled away farther and farther, as our "cliques" became better defined and less closely entwined. But I'd call when I had the time. You had too many friends from collage visiting, though, and every time I invited you out you were sick. John's Birthday bash two years ago I BEGGED you to come over, to get away from Andy for a little while, and finally you relented. And met Schramm. To which, you've never actually given me credit. Did I care? A little. But I could deal. I was a friend.
Then came the cannibus, and Eric's friends. Bit by bit, the peices of the girl I knew vanished, and the sweet, teacher-wannabe, child-loving, fun but just a little too shy to get out there on her own girl was growing up. But so was I. So I dealt with it. And tried to call. But you never answered my calls, and "never got my messages, your phone was being wacky." Must have been intercepted by those friends from collage. Then Eric got arrested, on a game night. You came over, and waited. So we cancelled the game, and tried to comfort you. We accepted a $6.00 collect call so you could reach Eric in prison, and never asked for you to reimberse us. And you know? You never even thanked us for that night. Was I pissed? Eh. You had your own shit going on. So for a little while, I let it lie. Maine became possible, and I invited you. But you couldn't get off work, and "I never told you what week we were going." Must have dissapeared with those phonecalls and Collage friends. So we had a blast, and I got over my irritation over it. Of couse, when I came home I found out what a bad guy I was, I finally got really pissed. Sue me, I'm grown up. My 21'st birthday came and went, the birthday we'd planned for years, and did you even suck it up and call to wish me a happy birthday? Nah. But I sure as hell came to yours. It was supposed to be special, remember?
Oh well, such is life. I wrote a birthday card with all my heart and memories in it, and you seemed to actually be moved. Guess I hadn't caught on to what a good liar you were. We invited you to the game at your request. I was fucking Thrilled, now you actually, after the last three years, WANTED to spend actual time around me. But I guess you hated that. Can I blame you? Nah, you grew up. Whatever. You lied to me on the phone, a blatent fucking lie, and when I called you on it, you didn't even have the decency to fess-up. You said it was your neighbor. Lame, meg, I know your neighbors. I grew up three blocks away, remember? And then Schramm took the hit for the lie, and you never even apologised. Whatever. I joked about it at his birthday party (which we attended, pity your annaversary fell on Johns. Interesting coincidence?) and tried to let it all slide. But I'm done. Tired, grown up. Your right, we have different cliques, you've seen to that. John never even hears from Schramm anymore. Pity, they were such great friends before he met you. But people grow apart, it's cool. Just don't ever come back into my life, okay? Don't reply, don't comment, don't talk about me. Erase this post if it makes you feel better about yourself; makes it easier to tell the lies. I'm out, done. I have no more pity or compassion for you, no more handouts, friendly or otherwise. J and Eric can be whoever they want with each other, but don't come over to our house when I'm home.
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~Kathryne Sydney Charles
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