"Open your angel's arms to the stranger in paradise and tell me that I may be a stranger no more"
This is me and you. I don't know which one of us is Francine, and which one of us is Katchoo. Both of us are both of them is probably more accurate, we just don't have the lesbian dimension. If we were lesbians, we'd probably be married by now.
We were best friends in high school. I remember the first day I actually met you. I was a sophomore in high school and I was crouching in front of my locker. You walked up next to me, and I looked up, and then I saw you, and I was kind of scared. Because you were big and tall and wore a lot of eye makeup and dressed the way kids dressed 10 years ago when they couldn't reconcile goth and raver.
You said, "Hi."
"Uh, hi."
"Are you going out with Thomas?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Oh. I used to be in love with him." And then you walked away. I don't know how that initial encounter ended with us being close friends, but whatever, I won't complain. I'm just happy it happened. We got along wonderfully because everyone else thought we were both absolutely fucking crazy. They were partially correct, I suppose.
And then we became not friends. You dated Neil for like two weeks and then dumped him, partially because you couldn't stand him, partially to get back with your old boyfriend (who I hated and still hate). Then I started hanging out with Neil and then suddenly he and I were dating (sidenote: I remember not wanting to date him and running into girls from school at the mall. They said, "I heard you and Neil are going out." I said, "Who did you hear that from?" and they said, "Neil."). So at this point you were dating someone I hated (I had my reasons) and I was dating someone you hated (you had your reasons). But that wasn't the driving wedge.
It was Neil and my god damned pride. Most people I know admit to large amounts of idiocy in their high school years. I was no different. The worst part of mine was that I was so fixed on defending myself that I'd start hating a particular person before they could start hating me. I thought it gave me the upper hand, but really, it didn't. And it's not fun to have almost everyone think you're a huge bitch.
Neil. I'm so angry. I think what he did was recognize that you and I were very close. Knowing that that you really didn't like him was an impediment to him being close to me. So being the strategist that he was/is, he went between the two of us and told both of us the other was talking shit. We started to hate each other. But I have to admit that I was the one who started being a cunt first. Just because of what he said. I couldn't even talk to you about it.
I'm so sorry, Lindsay. There are very few things in my life that I regret. I regret some of things I said to my mother when I was in high school. I regret that I started smoking. And I regret that I let a fucking guy influence my thinking and turn against you.
When I think of the more fundamental things we have in common, there are these qualities: we are both weird, we are both kind of crazy, we are both very compassionate, and we are both very loyal. I might have you trumped in the weird and crazy departments. You definitely have me trumped for compassion and loyalty.
Fast forward five years and I am newly single. Prior to becoming single, I'd messaged you on MySpace (and that's what reminds me of this particular scene from Strangers in Paradise and we discovered that we in fact had never truly hated each other, had missed each other, and both wanted to hang out when I was home for the summer.
At circumstances were, we were reunited at one of the worst points in my adult life. I remember that we saw "Knocked Up" and then went to Dublin Square for drinks. I remember the next day I had to make my first court appearance for the bedroom disaster. I think about what I felt like back then, and I remember it all. My stomach being in an interminable knot, wanting to rip my hair out, wanting to scream, wanting to cry, wanting to just be so fucking angry. And then I think of you sitting beside me and it's such an odd juxtaposition, because after five years of not seeing each other and feeling that illusory animosity, you were what you'd been to me in high school: complete comfort.
Even though I was so awful. I don't like to make a habit of questioning the things that work in my favor, but I do wonder how we went from being on supposed bad terms for five years, and the first time we're with each other again, it's like nothing had ever changed. I'll chalk it up to true love. Even though I know I was going through a pretty bad experience and in a shitty state of mind, I look back at the parts of that summer when I was with you very fondly. Going out with you to feed your dad's horses, talking about whether or not it would be worth it to smoke salvia, flashing you my boobs in the field. I remember smoking cigarettes in your car one time and you had a book to loan me, which pretty much verified exactly how well you knew me. It was called The Fat Girl's Guide to Life and you said, "It's not really even about being fat. It's a book about self-esteem. I really think you should read it. You might weigh four pounds, but you're a fat girl on the inside."
Fat girls. This is another one of the areas where you astound me. I don't think any group of people has to put up with more shit than fat women do, at least in terms of people thinking it's still acceptable to give other people shit directly to their faces. I know you have to deal with it, and what I respect about you the most is that you're not changing for anyone. At this point you've lost like 130 pounds since last I remember, but it was because of a medical reason, and not to conform to ridiculous standards. Whatever your reasons, I'm in awe of you.
Other reasons that I'm in awe of you: you work at both an assisted living facility and at an abused women's shelter. Working two jobs is impressive enough, but they're also two jobs I don't think I'd have the stomach for. You've got some serious do-gooder in you. You're pretty much superwoman. No, wait. The Bionic Woman, duh.
I'm so glad that this past summer I was completely over the break up, because I knew that I was able to be a lot more fun. You even said so, that you felt close to me last year, but this year was even better. I can't help but agree. I'm trying to be as awesome as you, but I still don't know how I hold up my end of the deal in our friendship. I really don't.
I never want to lose you again. I know I never will, unless you get sick of me.
Love love love love love,
Adrianne
P.S. --- These are my favorite things you've ever said:
"Eric, I did not attack you with an axe. I threatened you with an axe."
"I hate how he walks with his hands in his pockets all the time. I just want to scream, 'Get your hands out of your pock-etttttttttts! This isn't a stroll in the park!'"
"I had this dream that you and Jennifer and I had a three-way. I had this giant black penis, and you had licorice coming out of your vagina. And I was eating it." :O
"Why is it that people who wait tables at nice restaurants think somehow that they're . . . not still waiters?"
"Yeah, you are kind of bitch. And yeah, you are weird. When people say to me, 'I don't think Adrianne likes me' I just tell them that you're not fake. If they make a stupid joke, you're not going to laugh at it just to make them feel good. In a way it makes me feel special because I know you really do like me." WHAT? I fucking love you.
