Her mom called my mom. "Would Payton like to come over today?" she asked. 

Of course I would. Why wouldn't I?

Two fourth graders. One friendship. No worries. Yet.  

We played in the woods. The breeze blew leaves everywhere.

We loved the leaves. Then again, she was much more easily drawn to love things. 

 

She texted me. "Do you want to come over today?" she asked. 

Of course I would. Why wouldn't I? 

Two eighth graders. One friendship. No worries. Yet. 

We talked about our different schools. The breeze blew, but we weren't outside to enjoy it .

We loved to catch up. Then again, we had a lot to catch up on. 

 

I texted her. I knew something was wrong. "Do you want to come over?" I asked.

Of course she would. Why wouldn't she?

One friendship. Two freshmen. Three worries. 

Her dad was getting worse.

They made fun of her at school. 

I didn't like her new boyfriend. 

 

She texted me from the hospital. 

One text message. Two words. infinite worries. 

"He's passed." 

 

Everything was wrong.

The rumors about her and her scumbag ex spread like wildfire. 

They called her names, threw things at her. 

They never thought. 

About how she might be struggling with why she was taken from her birth parents.

About how on top of not having her birth parents, she had lost her adopted father.

About the endless tension and misunderstanding between her and her mother. 

About the countless times she's come to my house and we've cried ourselves an ocean. 

About how the only coping mechanisms she felt were any

use were her wrists and a razorblade. 

They perpetually bullied her, blind to the struggles of her loss.

They never stopped to wonder what their brutality could do to a person. 

And why would they? They were monsters. 

I couldn't lose her. She would never cut that deep. Would she? 

 

We talk as often as we can. "Do you want to stay in Indy with me sometime?"she asks.

Of course I would! Why wouldn't I? 

Two teenagers. One friendship. No doubt about what a crazy journey it's been. 

We miss each other like crazy.

We talk about how much her new school is helping her with her depression.

We talk about how amazing her new boyfriend is, and how I definitely approve this time around. 

We talk about how lucky we are that she didn't give up. 

I never tell her this, but every now and then

I feel waves of terror at the thought of losing her.

She promises me she's not going anywhere, and it's a lot easier to believe her now. 

What I do tell her so very often is that

she's the most beautiful, strong amazing friend I could ask for.

She doesn't always believe me, and it breaks my heart.

But she's doing better, and that gives me all the hope I need.  

I'm so eternally greatful that she didn't give up. 

I know a lot of stories don't turn out the way ours did.

But then again, a lot of stories aren't what ours is.