Gossip Girl

Spring break began today as the bell rang at 2:15 and we all ran out of our fifth hours like bats out of hell (which with the all-black uniform is actually fairly accurate) and I hopped on a bus home to induldge in some of my favorite Upper East Side drama on Gossip Girl. (I borrowed season 1 from the library.) And as I'm watching Gossip Girl, there's this episode right after Serena returns to New York, it's the fourth in the show, where they're just so best-friendy.
And as this unfolds on my computer screen and I watch, absorbed in their drama, mayhem, beauty, and lavish clothing, I realize....
I'm without a best friend. I have been for a while. Even when I still spoke to Lucy (my previous best friend who was dumped for... well... various reasons. Some of the top including: total selfishness, snobbiness, and feelings of total superiority. She's actually a lot like Blair from the show.) we hadn't been best friends since September. The week after my birthday when my mom kicked me out I stayed with her and her family for two weeks. Everything she said was wrong, and I realized then that she didn't understand me in the least bit. I don't think she ever knew who I actually was. She had this idea of me in her head, kind of like a stranger would, of this you-that-you-pretend-to-be. She believed my too-cool-for-school, nothing affects me, I have no feelings, I'm a cold-hearted bitch act. She accepted it as who I was and was determined to change it instead of seeing that I act like that because I'm miserable, and I hate my family but I still love them so much, and I cry inside pretty constantly, and that I'm already sweet, and caring, and compassionate, and full of love that's just looking for a home. She had been that home.
A year ago today, she called me, sobbing, because she'd overheard her parents talking about getting a divorce. They'd been having problems and they were just discussing it as a possibility. I calmed her down, I reassured her, I said all the right things and they were all true things. By the time we hung up, two hours later, she was laughing.
She'd never once, in our whole friendship, done that for me. Mind you, I cried a lot in our friendship. She came in at a kind of crucial time. Hell, she even caused some of that crying.
After I'd been dumped by my ex, Jose, (who she was good friends with, there was a bit of a foursome going with us, Ruddy, Lucy, Jose, and me. We were always together. Two sets of besties connected by me and Jose's relationship.) she forced us together, even though all I wanted to do was curl up a corner and cry my eyes out while watching chick flicks and complaining about everything that was wrong with him. She made us hang out, like we had been before, because it was convinient for her. Jose went along with it because he still wanted me and he'd made a mistake and wanted to get back together. I went along with it because it was that or go home.
Millions of things like that happened. She was a terrible friend.

But she was my best friend.
And I could tell her everything, even if I didn't like what she said. I could always walk into a room, go up to her, and know I'd have her full attention. If I called to make plans, I'd know I'd be pushed ahead of or dragged along with whatever she'd already had planned.
And I don't have that.
I've never not had that. Not since first grade when everyone was your best friend.
I feel like a part of me is missing because of that. Like somethings... Gone.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I have friends, I have a dozen damn good friends who I can always count on. It's just.... not a BEST friend, not like that.
And I miss it.
I want it back.
I want to stay up late giggling about clothes and hair and shoes and boys.
I want that so bad it hurts.