By AMANDA WILSON
When I was 10 years old, I met someone who formed me like warm clay, and helped shape me into the person I am.
That year I was still "the new kid," with only one year under my belt at my elementary school. In addition, I was a shy, soft-spoken girl with low self-esteem. But on the first day of fifth grade, I met my soon-to-be best friend, who was my polar opposite in every way.
She was the kind of person who attracted attention the moment she entered a room, without even saying a word. She was tall and slender, and wore black boots with chunky heels and those flowing, tie-dyed tops with huge bell-shaped sleeves. She made her own jewelry out of plastic beads and wrote her name meticulously, making little curls on every letter. She was confident, witty and beautiful: everything I thought I was not.
And somehow, we immediately became friends.
I wanted to be just like her. I began to dress like her, talk, act and write my name like her. Eventually, I even stopped doing the things I loved to do, like dancing and participating in Girl Scouts. She had convinced me that they weren't "cool" anymore. Throughout the years, I changed more and more, becoming so much like her that our names were nearly synonymous.
The two of us spent all of our time together, discovering new hobbies and pastimes. Near the end of sixth grade we became infatuated with a new interest -- drawing. We bought metallic markers and fancy colored pencils and swapped them back and forth at school. Together, we drew cartoons from TV shows, and even made up our own characters. Our homework papers were soon covered with flowers and butterflies and peace signs. All the other kids would admire our drawings with wide eyes.
I didn't even recognize my talent until she started asking me to help her -- show her how to improve a drawing. I was astonished that I could be better at something than she was. She had helped me find my gift.
However, during seventh grade, things started to go downhill. She started slacking on her schoolwork, expecting me to let her copy my answers. When I was younger, I let her get away with it, but as I grew older, I started to make up excuses.
In my naïve mind, I couldn't understand why she would refuse to do the work when she knew the answers. It never occurred to me that she simply "didn't feel like it." Throughout eighth, ninth, 10th and 11th grade we still shared secrets and art supplies. We remained inseparable, even though she started to miss more and more school and began losing credits.
Then, in our senior year of high school, she dropped out. I would come to school every day, hoping to see her walk through the doors in her brightly colored clothes, but I never did. I have not heard from her since the beginning of November.
I was disappointed to lose the person I shared every aspect of my life with for so many years. Now that I have come to terms with that loss, I am able to reflect on the things she had taught me.
Because of her, I discovered my passion: drawing. When she encouraged me and told me that I did it brilliantly, she taught me how to be confident.
Because I had become a more confident individual, I had the courage to decide not to follow in her footsteps.
Though I'm sure we still have some things in common, I know there are many more differences between us now. By observing the choices she made and the consequences of those choices, she taught me many lessons that helped me to become the unique, honest, artistic, confident, self-respecting person I am today.
Amanda Wilson is a senior at Elk Rapids High School.
