I think Emma is mad at me. Okay. Think is the biggest understatement of the year. I know she is. I think ignoring my messages was a dead give away. I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been good with confrontation.
It’s been a couple weeks since she left New Zealand for bigger and better things. And we have barely spoken since. Which is odd. Now I know you’re probably thinking stop being dramatic. I am over reacting. But you don’t know Emma.
She is one of a kind.
I first got to know her on a beach in Barcelona. It was a beautiful day and the beach was jam packed. We were practically sitting on top of the people next to us. It was us and 3 other girls. But Emma had an irrational fear of the water. I guess she still does… but on this day it kind of disappeared.
She got in the water and was so proud of herself. I felt privileged to be a part of this special memory for her. And with what were complete strangers at the time. At this moment in the Contiki we were still only getting to know each other. But friendships were developing quickly. And I think both Emma and I began ours there. After all we were in an amazing country for the first time. I mean what a place to begin to overcome fears.
But it was what transpired as we all laid on the beach in our bathers. We talked. All of us. For what seemed like hours. About everything and nothing all at once. I felt as though I had known these people, known Emma, my whole life. Emma was the opposite of me. She was confident and radiant. She is the kind of girl you can’t help but notice. There was no blending in for her. She stood out in a crowd and I welcomed it.
I have never been that girl. At least I never felt like it. But between travelling to Europe and then New Zealand, especially with Emma, I slowly started to embrace who I am… who I want to be. I felt different. I acted different. I was me.
Emma is easy to talk to. I haven’t even known her a year and she has seen me at my worst. And I like to believe I have seen Emma at her worst as well. New Zealand was a rocky road for us… but that story is for another day.
Right now I am just trying to process how we went from Barcelona to barely talking. I mean I know why which makes it that much harder, because I don’t want to have to choose.
It’s that guy I was telling you about the other day. The one I can’t stop thinking about. The one I could never regret being with for that short amount of time. But yet being with him put Emma in an awkward position. A position where she has to let go of past friendships and embrace new ones…
I need to stop there. This makes me sound terrible. Like I chose a guy over my friend. But I didn’t, Diary. I could never do that.
Let me just state for the record that she was okay with me and him. She actually seemed happy about it. They never dated or had anything between them, because I know that’s what you’re thinking. I just don’t think I handled the situation in the best way possible. Like I said I’m shit with confrontation. And I take full responsibility for that.
So let me explain. Emma had a best friend named Stacey. It was rocky friendship from what I understood. Not the greatest but still good. But it recently went downhill. Hence why I said she ‘had’ a best friend. As in past tense. And well, Diary, Stacey use to date this guy I’ve been telling you about. Not just casually date but it was a long term serious relationship. But that also went downhill.
I think you can see where this is going.
So you have Emma, Stacey and this guy, a little broken up trio… and then there is me. Not really fitting in but making for an awkward situation for Emma. A situation that would have been fine if I wasn’t me.
Someone who feels bad about things I shouldn’t. Someone who apologises uncontrollably but in the awkwardest way possible. Someone who struggles to talk about anything guy related. Someone who didn’t do anything wrong but yet still manages to act like I have. Someone who finally did something that made me happy and apologise for it. Basically, I dug myself a hole I couldn’t get out of. And damn did I try.
I’ve apologised. Genuinely apologised. In those ridiculous long messages that you can’t help but notice apologised way.
Yet nothing. Absolutely nothing.
So Diary, what do I do?
How do I gain back a friend I haven’t even know a year but feels like I’ve known a lifetime?
Let’s hope I can figure this out before it’s too late.
With regretful regret, Sticky Girl.