I had this friend that I had known for a years. She was one of my best friends, we told each other everything. She knew everything about me and I knew everything about her; or so I thought.
She had a story for everything, some were ordinary but some were completely outrageous. They ranged from eating strange objects as a child, having ghosts in her house that had to be exercised, knowing someone who was a drug addict on skid row and everything in between. I would tell my mom these stories excitedly because they seemed so crazy and interesting and after a while my mom started to doubt their authenticity. How could one, ordinary, middle class girl, have had so many things happen to her and her family? But she was my friend and I believed her; every word. To me it didn’t make sense that she would be lying. What was she gaining? I was already her friend, I had known her for years, why would she keep lying?
She was a really spontaneous person. I never knew what I would be coming home to (oh, did I mention we were roommates too?). A couple times it was a new pet, sometimes a new piercing or tattoo, maybe a new craze diet. Whatever it was, she would get it in her head and be obsessed with it. She would decide that facebook was evil and delete her account (for about a week then reactivated it), she would be really into yoga one week then it would be the gym everyday instead. Whatever it was she would go all out for a few days then it would calm down. Looking back I wonder if maybe she had something going on like OCD or some other kind of obsessive disorder.
One day she decided that she didn’t want to be my friend anymore. Moved out when I wasn’t home and left the key under the door.
I often look back on her stories and wonder how much was true. When a couple stories started to unravel it made me question everything. That’s the trouble with lies, they aren’t just stories you tell, it is a trust that you are breaking. When someone discovers a lie it makes them question everything else that they are told. The person becomes a ‘liar’ in their eyes and it is hard to come back from that.
It is sad to think of our friendship because, like I said, now I don’t know how much was true. How much did I actually know about her? Currently I don’t even know where she is living, my attempts to stay in contact after she moved out where rebuffed. I guess I’ll never know what was real and what were lies.