She Was a Polish Girl in America

A pool of emotions consume our thoughts with just two simple words: middle school. I doubt I need to dwell on the outright pain and suffering that came with these years, so I’ll save that for another day. However, I did end up making a friend in between all of the snapbacks and DC skater shoes. Her name was Angie. Angie had really long hair. I talking really really long hair. I am still not clearly sure what color those locks were, since it seemed as if she constantly dyed it. We started bonding in band class, since we both shared the common disinterest in both our psycho band conductor and the squeaky clarinet. (Angie quit band all together after 8th grade, and I switched to the bassoon, an instrument that is often neglected in junior bands.) We always ate lunch together while staring at the one mildly attractive boy in our grade. I’m still convinced some powerful puberty God sprinkles a little sugar on boys the summer before high school, since most come back to school two feet taller and speak two octaves lower. At first, Angie and I were simply “school friends”. We would have a good time at school, but barely spoke of each other outside of the classroom. However, this label soon morphed into a full blown friendship. She lived in the middle of the woods, which was ideal for karaoke battles and scary movie marathons. One day I even traveled to her parent’s Polish market to assist with the Easter rush. Her father probably knew about five words in English, so working together was a bit of an inconvenience. 

As high school came around the corner, we started to drift apart. Her older brother, Artur, was sent back to Poland because of his behavior, so Angie sort of started to become friends with all of his old friends. I admit, most of this kids were probably not the best influence, but Angie seemed to be happy. Plus, these kids were older, so they could drive. I probably would have stayed with them as well. We still occasionally saw each other, but not nearly as often as middle school. Eventually, I did not see her at all. She ended up not coming to school anymore. I later found out she actually started cyber school. I do not know why, and at this point, we were to distant to ask. We were both busy with other endeavors and really did not have the time. At least that is what I’ve been telling myself. Perhaps we could have both made a little more an effort to communicate. We always swore to each other we would catch up,  but it never happened. Then, one day as I was wasting my life away on Facebook, I noticed a status. 

Angie is moving back to Poland. It has been over a year since our last encounter, so I messaged her about the details. It was true, my middle school friend is moving away. Nothing prompted our split, we just drifted. Neither of us put in the solid effort to make it last, and frankly I’m disappointed. Things change, people change, and situations change. 

Freshman homecoming. Blue eyeshadow and Angie.

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