Personal Narrative: A Loss In Hindsight

A Loss in Hindsight
The event of losing something is not a unique experience. Whether the loss was temporary and painless, or permanent and punishing, everyone has lost something. Knowing this, it is unsurprising that grief and loss have been broken down into stages that can be clearly seen in most cases: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. The fact that my own life is riddled with several varying falls into the pits of despair is also to be expected. Right now, in my sixteen years of life, I cannot count the amount of things I have lost. However, there is one loss I recall quite clearly, the loss of my first best friend.
I met this girl in the second grade. She sat in the seat behind me and not only did the two of us refuse to hand in our homework, we both had three teal monkey-head erasers stacked

I read the letter, even if I cringed visibly at the curly handwriting, and excessive amount of hearts used. I calmly told her that this was a horrible idea. The next day, I saw a boy find the pink envelope in his desk. I also witnessed him burst into laughter, while showing the letter off to his friends. At that moment, in a rush of disappointment, anger, and fear, I dramatically slammed my hand on the desk in front of him, and told him if my friend cried he would be “hanged, drawn, and quartered.” In the end, he accepted my friend’s feelings and in June I left the Americas for Ireland. I had a relaxing vacation free from any sort of electronics, so when I turned my phone back on at Kennedy airport, I was surprised to find sixty unread messages from my friend. She had, apparently, broken up with the boy a week after I left. And the whole incident was, apparently, my doing. The boy, after finding out I left the country, told her about my threat. They broke up and she blew up my inbox, calling me an obsessive “lesbian,” who was constantly trying to sabotage her chances with