This is an assignment from my Scriptwriting class I took in sophomore year. I’ve never really had any close friends or friendships that have lasted a long time, and I surely haven’t had long-term relationships. So when it came to writing this assignment, the one person that came to my mind was a friend that really had a spirit for life. She died in a car accident while I was in Colorado and she was still in Maryland, but I always think of her and imagine what her life would have been like. She had so much pain and hurt, but she still had a joy for life. All she wanted was love…
JASMINE, 19, tall height for a female, brown skin with caramel undertones, short curly hair, outgoing demeanor with a raw outlook on life.
When I first met her, I realized that for a big girl she held no limitations to her life. Yeah, it’s true we both dated the same guy. She had him first…I had him second. Truth of the matter is, I had him last. So many times in life when you walk pass a wall and see graffiti sprayed with three desperate letters “RIP” you realize that this will become a part of your reality one day.
Lustful weekends. Drunk phone calls. Exaggerated lies in the face of a concerned mother. These were threads woven into the fabric of our friendship. She didn’t let her natural h cup earthquakes stop her from expressing her love for sports or fashion. All of her clothes were customed made. Price didn’t matter, her dad was VIP of a top pharmaceutical company and their estate on Masters Run was 15 houses in one. She clocked in at 6 feet tall and used her height on the volleyball court and on the streets with men.
Our friendship began on Myspace. All it took was one message, one text, one phone call, and a lunch date at Panera Bread. Next thing you know, before I even know it…we became best friends. It dawned on me that we had more in common than dating the same guy and being 6 feet tall. She loved to laugh. Melissa had a roaring laughter that could shake California. Her favorite comedian…was herself. After a long day at the mall looking for “hot” black guys, I would laugh at her excuses for why the guy’s didn’t want her.
She would explain to me the reasons black guys didn’t want to date her was because she was “just a white girl”. Every guy she pushed up on, ending up trying to get with me…and walking away empty handed. My mom always told me to never break the number one girl’s rule. Don’t date your best friend’s ex, but also never date their crush. I couldn’t diss my friend. I couldn’t let her beat herself up for being downgraded to “just a white girl”. Melissa was more than that. The color of her skin didn’t stop the love she donated. Melissa was a bubbly ray of sunshine, with the voice of Taylor Swift. Grown men would cry when Melissa would sing her song. All she wanted was to be loved.
I never really believed in the fairytales of love, until I met Melissa. For 2 years I watched her go through ultimate pain, rejection, pregnancy scares, on her knees in random bathrooms with random black men, 2 rape cases that resulted in restraining orders, 2 abortions, and spending Friday nights alone eating ice cream filled with tears. I wanted to grab a spoon and join her in eating Ben and Jerrys. I wanted to watch cliché romantic comedies and plan each of our wedding days in our minds.On plenty of occasions I wanted to disappear from her life…but her mother’s words tugged at my heart. “Don’t let anything happen to my Melissa. She needs a good person like you in her life. Please stay her friend” Her mother would beg for me to hang out with Melissa. To somehow deflect the pain and to create new memories that normal teen girl’s should experience. Going to the prom and passing drivers ed.
It took her forever to pass drivers ed. She failed the test 3 times. It took her meeting a guy off myspace, falling in love, and getting married for her to finally pass the test.
Life is like a wind that keeps blowing. The wind blew me to Colorado. The wind blew me to new friends. The wind blew me on a Sunday afternoon a year later to Melissa’s Facebook page. The wind blew me to tears when I saw all the RIP posts that stormed and rained on her wall. A friendship that began on Myspace…ended with a RIP on Facebook. Now the wind blows me to tell her story. My story.