A Story Of Accomplishment

The following is Inspired by Elizabeth and her idea to offer writing prompts every Wednesday for interested bloggers. Here's my response to her call to "Tell Me A Story."

The semester before I meet him—the semester before my life flips upside down—I spend most of my time with Cherie. She is deeply funny and when she tells stories, you listen; you can't help it, she's just that engaging. Her eyes also crinkle when she laughs. She lets me stay with her for most of that semester, after late nights in dusty bars with far too many flaming Dr. Peppers and on regular nights after devouring an entire Potato Shack buffalo-wing potato. She opens up her house to me, and we watch One Tree Hill episodes and talk about our lives and love interests and what we're going to wear to our next sorority date party. She becomes my first call that semester. We share a film class and we ride together in her big, maroon truck to campus once a week for our movie viewings and at one point, during the saddest scenes in Gladiator, I begin sobbing, and she won't stop laughing at me for it.

But then I meet him, and my life shifts imperceptibly at first and then quite obviously soon thereafter. We become interested in one another, and there are phone calls and dates set and awkward first kisses and electrifying later kisses. I'm falling in love with him, everyone can see it, and everyone is holding their breath because it's all moving so fast and so fiercely and she's worried for me. Of course she is. What will happen if this doesn't work out, she thinks. What will you do then, she wonders. I ignore her unvoiced concerns and spend less and less time with her, but every day I miss her. She doesn't buy it. I'm the one making this change, this choice. As warm as his house is every time I walk into it, as warm as his eyes get when he looks at me, I still miss her. Almost five years later, I'm still not sure if she knew how much.

Months into my relationship with him, he tells me about a family wedding and free airline tickets that were offered to us if we want to go. He wants me to meet the throngs of family members that live on the Florida coasts, and we've never been on an actual trip together, so I say yes. Of course I want to go. Of course I will go. But then I realize this wedding falls on the same day as Cherie's graduation party—a party she's been planning all semester, a party she had me reserve the date for months earlier. I drive over to her house one afternoon to tell her I won't be there. I'll be out of town with him instead. She is understandably hurt. Things aren't okay when I leave.

Later that day, in the parking lot of a Sprint store with Mike behind the wheel of his old, champagne-colored Nissan Altima, I cry for the first time in front of him over this fight with my friend.

Things stay strained for a while. She and I are not the same for a few very long, hard weeks and after that things are slow to return to normal. There are more arguments, more silent periods, more tears on my new boyfriend's shoulder. I am happier than I have ever been when Mike first tells me he loves me atop the Empire State Building nearly a month after this fight with Cherie. I am in love with him—and I have been for a while—and to hear that he loves me in return is blissful, it's everything, but I don't call her to tell her the news and there's a throbbing hole where that conversation should be.

We begin to pick up the pieces, though, and bricks upon bricks are lifted off my shoulders when we do. We share margaritas on the patio of On the Border that summer, and when she gets a job in Dallas, I'm thrilled for her. Her life is beginning. She's going to be fine. But I miss her even before she leaves, and when the time comes, when she's just days from leaving, we go out together to the strip of bars we used to frequent so often as two single college girls. We sit in one of those old dusty bar booths with our Long Island Iced Teas in hand and we talk about everything and nothing, as we always have. She says to me, after a few shots and a lot of nostalgia, "Our friendship is one of my greatest accomplishments." It's brought on by the drinks and the sadness of moving and all we've been through together, I know, but it was the best thing anyone has ever said to me.

Almost five years later, her eyes still crinkle when she laughs, and she is still—thank God—my friend.

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If you're interested in participating next week—and I'll remind you when the time comes—here's the next prompt: "Start any story with, 'I wouldn't say it was my best idea,' and go from there."

Comments

[Rhi]

1.

Awww! This makes me want to cry. Cherie is fantastic and HOLY COW you two look YOUNG in that photo!

P.S. There is a visible bump today. SO CUTE!

[Dianna]

2.

Great story, Jennie. And from what it looks like (I'm nosey and went and peeked at Cherie's blog...) you're going to become mothers around the same time, right?

[Raven]

3.

Lovely! A great story of enduring friendship!

I already wrote the title for next week and saved it as a draft so I could play along.

[Elizabeth]

4.

I loved this. Just beautiful.
But I am ashamed to admit I've never heard of a flaming Dr. Pepper and I am very intrigued.

[sarah]

5.

Beautiful as usual. I hope Cherie reads this-or you print it out for her. What a fitting tribute to an inspiring friendship :)

[Katie]

6.

Oh gosh, Jennie, I loved this. We've all been there, haven't we? I remember being Cherie when my best friend Stephanie fell in love. It's quite hard for both sides, but true friendships survive, just as you and Cherie have, and just as Stephanie and I have.

[Someone Being Me]

7.

What a great story. Any story with potato shack, dusty Northgate bars, and good friends has to be a good story. Brings back memories.

[Sharon]

8.

That was beautiful! Thanks for sharing. I think friendships that have survived the hard times are definitely stronger because of it.

[She Likes Purple]

9.

Rhi: This past year has aged us! That picture was taken last summer (2007).

Dianna: Cherie is due early December with identical twin boys!

Elizabeth: You drop a shot of amaretto (and I believe rum) into a glass of beer, but the shot is lit on fire before it's dropped in.

[Nicole]

10.

I'm so glad y'all are still friends. And when I read - "Our friendship is one of my greatest accomplishments" - I totally teared up. This was very well-written.

[rebecca]

11.

I have girls like that. they are my lifeline. jason is my soulmate, but they keep me pumping.
i like the layout, by the way.

[Cherie]

12.

What a great post, although I am a little bit biased! I was surprised that it was a little painful reading/ reliving that tough time in our friendship but we made it through and that's the important thing. And you got a great guy out of the deal! You followed your heart and everything worked out. I think our next greatest accomplishment should be to get back into the same state as one another. Ideally we'd be neighbors! Miss & Love ya.

[WonderSpot]

13.

What a well written post, and a great story. I'll be joining y'all next week (erm, this week) for the Wednesday prompt. It's such a great idea!

[Betsy]

14.

Mine is up for this week! This is so much fun!