My blood has boiled at the thought of her since the 8th grade. If there is one thing in this world I still have left to hold onto, it is the animosity I have against her. I’ve tasted this bitterness in my mouth for so long that I forget that there were once sweeter days. Believe it or not, she and I were once best friends. One was never seen without the other. That was until Valentine’s Day. It was the day before lovers would be passing around chocolate and flowers. She told me that I had a secret admirer who had confided in her about sending me a valentine. I was giddy and excited for any girl would be to know someone one had eyes for her. Who was I to think I was not deserving of a boy’s admiration. But the next day would change how I saw myself in the eyes of a boy forever. I began receiving messages on my phone from my secret admirer as I rode the bus home. When I arrived home I told my mother the exciting news, all the while she was spreading word to other girls and students to buy me valentines. That morning I ecstatically woke up for school. I dedicated much time to my hair, determined every curl would catch the boy’s eyes. After an impatient bus ride, I made my way to my locker. Everyone in my grade was gathered around. My face turned beet red for I had not intended on having an audience. My friend stood there with a malicious smirk on her face. I was slightly perplexed for this was not the scenario I had envisioned. When I came face to face with my locker, she proudly opened it. There were paper hearts plastered within the interior of my locker. I read one that said “gullible” and another that stated “goody goody who will die a lonely virgin.” The rest are too painful to even speak of. I felt tears brim my eyes and my heart began to sink into the deepest abyss from which it would take years for it to have the strength to crawl out. I timidly forced my eyes to face who was once my confidant in everything, waiting for her to tell me this was some wretched nightmare from which I would soon awaken. I longed for her to pinch me awake for physical pain was better than this. She looked at me and smiled, “Did you really think any boy would want you? Good luck on finding friends who are actually going to put up with you now. From here on out you are a lost cause.” And since then I have disliked the traits few see in her for now all I see in myself is something to put up with. Every time I see a new smiling face eager to befriend me, I think to myself “I am something to put up with like white noise that everyone tries their best to ignore.” I keep friends for a while but like a cheap bandaid they all fall away from my wounds and I am left bleeding more than I was before. I dislike and admire the traits of her for all the same reasons. Because when all is quiet and I fall asleep, my mouth waters for the sweetness our friendship once had and I am no longer left with the bitterness. I mock the blindness of others who choose to not see her wickedness but yet I am the worst of them all. I am what they say I am. I am gullible for I sometimes believe that we could one day again sit beneath the summer trees with a youthful chime to our careless conversations. However, I awaken to be reminded that she was nothing more than fool’s gold, yet I am the secret admirer who applauds her ability to make everyone in her presence a fool. One day life will bite into her brittle ego and she will realize that the hallways of pep rallies and popularity is only a Gold Rush in which people never stay long enough to put up with the ones like her.