Kindra...

Well, the worst of my fears were verified today by The News Journal. My ex-best friend and her baby were the victims of the fire that occurred on Friday. I don't know how to feel about it still. Mixed emotions run through me everytime I think about it. I feel terrible for her husband, terrible for her family, and all that they have lost. I know how much they all loved her.

I feel bad for speaking ill of her in my previous post, but all of it's true, and I don't want to try to sugarcoat how I felt about her just because she died. That would make me a fake and a phony, and I don't like to think of myself in that way.

I met her when I was 16, working at my first job at Friendly's as a waitress. Ironically, how I first met her was not because she was working with me, although she did later, but it was when she was a customer of mine. Her brother was already working there as a cook, and I guess he wanted her to come in and fill out an application so she could work there too. They'd worked together before at the Charcoal Pit, and they were close and always had fun working together. I remember that she had ordered a burger, without the cheese and without some condiment. I was still pretty new to working at all, and this being my first waitressing experience, I was nervous and must've forgotten to indicate on the computer the correct order. And someone else ran her food, and she graciously corrected me about what was wrong, and I hurriedly fixed it. I was even more embarrassed, because her brother was working and he of course had to razz me about the fact that I'd messed up his sister's order. But when she started working there with me, we became fast friends. I'm not sure why, maybe it was the discovery that we had birthdays right next to the other's. Mine was Feb. 3, and hers was the 4th. Either way, we became inseparable. We did everything together, all through high school, and even in college. She introduced me to three of the men I've had relationships with in my life, including the one I am currently involved with. For that, I will owe her for the rest of my life.

We took trips to the beach together, we went on vacations together, went to high school dances and parties together. I introduced her to my college friends and made her as much of a part of my life there as I could given that she didn't go to school with me. I loved her family...especially her dad, who is one of the most accepting and fun people to be around. On top of it all they always accepted me into their home with open arms whenever I was having trouble with my parents.

I loved her like a sister for eight years of my life. Don't get me wrong, we had a couple of fights over that period of time, but they were too small to really count, and always about something that we needed to fix in our friendship. Obviously she had other problems, which I won't go into much length about right now, and which eventually led to the ending of our friendship. I called her out on what she had done, and she neither admitted it or accepted responsibility for what she had done. Had she done so, our friendship probably would've survived what she had done to me. Her husband even asked me to put it behind me so I could be a part of his son's life. God, I really wanted that. I would've loved that baby like he were part of my family just like her. But I knew I couldn't compromise how I felt about how things had happened between us if she weren't at least willing to accept responsibility for her actions. And she never did. She never fought for our friendship. Not one call, not one apology, nothing. She didn't even come to my Dad's funeral when he died only a couple of months after we'd had our falling out. Her parents did, but not her. That's when I knew I probably didn't mean as much to her as I had thought. Most of the time, when you know you've done wrong to someone you love, and you want to rectify the situation, you'll do that. But she never did, and she never looked back, as far as I know.

Knowing that she is now dead, I have the usual doubts in my head. Whether or not I should've gotten over myself and just gone ahead with the friendship, wondering if that would make a difference in what happened this past Friday, even though I know that's a ridiculous way to feel. But I know I had to stick to my morals and principles or lose sight of who and what I am along with it. I would've lost respect for myself if I had allowed a friendship to continue that was abusive or hurtful to me in some way, especially if the behavior that caused it to hurt continued. And I had nothing to prove to me it wouldn't.

I am sad. Sad for the end of a rather short life for her. Sad for the baby that never got to grow up. Sad for the family that somehow has to move on without two pieces to their lives. It breaks my heart that that kind of thing happens in this world. It makes you ask a lot of questions that have no real good answers. It also makes you appreciate what you have and hold it more dear.

God bless you, Kindra, and your son. Thank you for the good years of friendship we did have. Thank you for making me into a stronger person, and teaching me not to let people push me around. Most of all, thank you for introducing me to Tony, and without even knowing it giving me the opportunity to experience true and selfless love.