Friendships: A Short Story

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I would unintentionally push them away when I was getting too close. Although I’d always longed for friendships, I grew uncomfortable and even disliked the very notion of the intense gravity of them. It sounds quite horrible, but it’s true. I didn’t want it to be true. It would always be a struggle for me to develop and keep up those deep, lasting friendships. Even the three friends that I adored so much were casualties of this, I would spend an enormous amount of time in the 'come here, go away ' state of mind. I had figured this out about myself early on, so I was able to catch myself when I was doing this and call them to appear to be in touch so they wouldn 't think I didn 't care anymore. I managed to keep this up long enough to keep …show more content…

I could now take each, one by one, wrap them up with the paper and put them in the box labeled attic. Being much like letting go of the incredible sense of loss, there is no going back to that place. A time to remember who I was. No matter how much changes, no matter how much time passes, and no matter how much even I try to forget it – I can 't replace my core. It lives on inside of me. While there are still things I don’t understand about my childhood, I am able to give exact accounts of events, places I had lived and schools I had attended. These accumulations still leave the lasting traces that influenced me. “I was a Military brat.” Simple as that. It was up to me whether I would settle down my wandering spirit or not. The memories are safe there in the attic of my memories. I can share those without getting them down. On occasion, I do find myself thinking about the times in my life when things were in chaos. Allowing myself to acknowledge that things were not ideal when I was thrust beyond the fence. I would collide with a world that I was not ready to live in. Nevertheless, I know, that I was not the …show more content…

This experience has developed my character and has enabled me to adapt to situations. I remember faces now, but not names. When you are growing up in it, you don’t see that it is different. It’s the way it was. Without knowing everybody, we knew each other. We had a bond. We spoke the same language. We lived the same type of life. Whether it’s the phonetic alphabet or learning how to use a twenty-four-hour clock, I spoke the lingo while growing up. Hearing my parents making appointments at “zero eight hundred hours” or “fifteen hundred hours” changed the way I would tell time. My curfew was "O-dark-30" and I had better be in the house. Anything after 0800 was wasting daylight. We were always 15 minutes early for an appointment, 10 minutes early meant you were late. Punctuality being an important thing in life. I learned to arrive early and be ready to react to a change of circumstances at a moments notice. I also became bound to judge people for saying things like C as in cat instead of C is for Charlie. We were taught the alphabet with a different meaning to the letters, we could recite the phonetic alphabet without errors. In our world, C never stood for cookie or cat. I would take every opportunity to work hard even if it didn’t look like there would be an opportunity for growth in it. My mother taught me to iron

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