I can’t stop thinking about her. I don’t know why.
Laurie has always been in the back of my mind. But, I don’t really pay attention to her presence there. It’s like I put her inside of a prison cell in the dark recesses of my mind, and she’s fine there; she doesn’t bother me. But I always know she’s there, hidden away. Ever since my last entry where I mentioned her though, it’s as if she’s broken out of that cell and she’s screaming at me to pay attention to her. She won’t leave me alone.
A lot of kids in school thought I was obsessed with her. HA! That always made me laugh. I wasn’t obsessed with her. She was clearly obsessed with me. She followed me around like a little puppy. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy to carry the leash – but she put the collar on her own neck. In fact, she was the one that first showed up at my house the same night I met her freshman year. But, everyone wanted to believe that I had done some weird fucking voodoo magic on her to get her to be my friend – or whatever we were. The truth is, she’s just as fucked up as I am in a lot of ways. And I was the only one in her life that let her explore her dark side. To everyone else, she had to be perfect. Anything less than perfection, and she would be vilified. Before she met me (and for quite a while afterwards) she was a straight A student. Teacher’s pet kind of girl. Always went to church. Captain of the cheerleading squad. She got onto the varsity volleyball team her freshman year – apparently completely unheard of… God. I can still picture her in those tiny little volleyball shorts. Whoever allowed those uniforms to be worn by high school girls was definitely a pervert. I guess I’m not one to judge though.
Eventually that all started to break down. I think it was the constant drug use. She was addicted more than I was, and I knew that. But I was too addicted myself to stop her. We fueled each other’s problems – something I didn’t fully realize until she wasn’t in my life anymore. I think in some ways we were also addicted to each other.
Fuck. I miss her. Why do I miss her? I haven’t thought about her like this in so long. I wonder where she is or what she’s doing. I wonder if she ever thinks of me like this…