NaNoWriMo - Day 12

I think Zach was a little sad about Bridget dumping him.  I mean, I would imagine it hurts to hear someone say they don't want to be with you, even if you don't want to be with them either, but he came out on top.  Within just a few weeks of the break-up, I noticed a significant change.  He smiled a lot more and was back to his own joking, teasing, wanting to use me for my car even though he had one of his own this year self.  I was glad to have him back.

I have to admit, though, I found myself wondering about Bridget.  That conversation I had with her had shaken me more than I realized at first and I nearly felt like I should apologize to her for thinking she was such a bitch all that time.  She wasn't a bitch.  She was just different.  I still felt like she was destructive to herself and others, but not in a life and death kind of way.  More in a not living a truly meaningful life kind of way.  Of course, me apologizing to her for thinking she was a bitch would require admitting to her that I had considered her a bitch.  I couldn't think of anyway that that didn't come off making me seem like the total asshole that I had mentally been to her.  So I didn't follow through.  Instead, I just wondered from time to time if she had found some other guy to agonize or if maybe she had straightened herself up a little.  I wondered what Bridget not being a crazy sorority party girl would be like.  It seemed like the partying was such a part of her nature that she wouldn't even be the same person, but people do change.  I mean, look at me, I used to think I was a pretty nice guy and then I ended up hating on both of my best friend's girlfriends.  Was I just jealous that he had had two relationships in the time that I had had zero?  Was I really that shallow?  Did this all go back to wanting approval from my father?  No approval from dad, no attention from girls.  Was that what was getting me down?

While I was busy trying to figure this out, I failed to notice that the old Zach I had known and loved was fading again, until finally one day he came out and said to me, "Dude, I think I might want to get back together with Lizzy."

I should have seen it coming, but I was distracted and not being a particularly good friend up to that point, so at the time it seemed to come so far out of left field that all I could manage to provide was a shocked, deadpan "What?"

"I'm serious," he said.  "I really miss her.  I barely miss Bridget at all, but I really miss Lizzy."

I knew he had missed Lizzy before, back before Bridget, but I thought the whole point of Bridget had been to get over Lizzy.  It seemed that instead, Bridget had just driven him right back into Lizzy's arms.  My initial reaction had been to resist, to argue, to try to convince him not to do it, but hadn't I just been feeling guilty about my past animosity towards both Lizzy and Bridget?  Maybe it was right for Zach and Bridget to be together.

"I don't know, man," I said, softening my tone.  "You have to do what you think is right, what you think will make you happy."  I took a breath and then added, "And what you think will make Lizzy happy, too."

He fidgeted with his thumbs a bit, then looked up at me and asked, "You don't think Lizzy would want me back?"

I shook my head.  "I didn't say that, man."  The truth was, I thought Lizzy would be nuts not to take Zach back.  He was always so good to her and I wasn't sure she could land a more normal guy than Zach.  But then again, the reason I say that is that Lizzy was a little nuts, so who really knew what she would do.

Zach sighed and collapsed back onto the bed he had been sitting on.  "I don't know, dude," he said with his hands behind his head staring up at the ceiling.  "Are chicks really worth it?"

I shrugged and turned back to my computer.  I had been in the middle of writing a paper when he made his announcement.  "I don't know," I said.  "If I ever manage to find one to date, I'll let you know."

Zach immediately sat back up and said, "Oh geeze, dude, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean..."

I laughed and turned back around to face him.  "No, man, I understand," I said.  "You shouldn't feel bad."

"You'll find the right girl," he said.  "I know you will."

I chuckled.  "At this point I'd settle for any girl," I joked.

There was silence for a moment.  Zach folded his hands and kicked his feet a little and then looked at me again and said, "You know, Lizzy could have been yours."

I shook my head.  "Now that I know would have never worked out," I said.

He shrugged.  "You never know," he said.

I nodded and said, "Yes I do."  There was silence again.  We both looked down at our hands awkwardly and then I finally looked back up and said, "If you really want to be with her, if you think it will make both of you happy and be a good relationship, you should go for it."

He glanced up and gave a brief smile.  "Thanks, dude," he said.  "That means a lot."

-----

I loved running on the track team.  I did the 200m and 400m dashes.  For those few seconds, there was nothing else in the world but the air hitting my face and my running shoes hitting the track as I raced along, arms pumping, sweat dripping from my face, hurling towards that finish line, gaining on the other girls or, more often, pushing myself to catch up to the couple that were just ahead of me, just out of reach.  I actually liked it better when I wasn't winning, which was convenient since I rarely was winning, because I could see ahead of me what I was pushing for.  It was motivating.  And when I was able to actually catch or even pass one of the girls ahead of me before we reached the end of the race, well there was no greater feeling in all of the world.

Losing that feeling was what made my injury all the more devastating.

Now before you get too worried about me, this wasn't a permanent injury, and it wasn't like I could never walk again or anything like that.  Maybe I should have kept you in suspense for a while longer, but that's just not my style.  I was on crutches for a while, but after that I could walk mostly fine, just couldn't run any distance for several months.  All that being said, you probably think it wasn't all that bad, but for me it was awful.

This was my first year of college, first year running college track.  It was my fourth meet of the season.  I was pumped up because practices had been going great this week and I had gotten second place at the previous week's meet.  It was a smaller meet with less competition, but still, second place was pretty exciting.  My dad was even in the stands at this meet, since it was on our home turf.  I tried to be an adult and not be thrilled to death that he was there, but I was still a silly little freshman barely out of high school who had grown up as daddy's little girl, so it was pretty hard to hide my emotions.  I had gone over and talked to him before the race and he had told me how proud he was of me and promised to take lots of pictures.  I don't think he expected to be taking pictures of the girl in the lane next to me tripping me.

Now she didn't do it on purpose.  I know it was just an accident.  After all, she took both of us down, and no one would want to trip a second rate runner next to them to their own detriment as well intentionally.  Still, I had never felt such simultaneous anger and pain before in my life.  My leg slammed against the track hard, and skidded in a way that really ripped the skin open.  The girl next to me was moaning a little, but I was in tears.  The coach, a couple of my teammates, and my dad all rushed to my side.  They got me in the ambulance and took me to the emergency room, which was probably overkill to be honest, and the doctor cleaned up my leg, declared it severely sprained and the bone slightly (hairline) fractured.  It wasn't the worst sports injury ever by a long shot, but it was enough to put me out of commission for the rest of the season.  And I was crushed.  I never had any hopes of winning at any of my meets, but to not even be able to compete after winning the scholarship and training so hard for months, that was awful.  I knew I would have three more years to compete after this, but all I could think about was what a crappy start I was off to.

Of course, my father was just as supportive as ever.  He told me how he was pretty sure I would have won the race if I hadn't been so brutally tripped and I just rolled my eyes and said, "Oh, Dad."  He smiled.  At least he had managed to make me feel better for a little while.  He checked up on me for the next couple days to make sure I was doing okay and then decided it was time to give me my space again.  I missed him immediately, especially since Jamie was involved in an intensive work-study that month and Bridget had been so busy with this new boyfriend of hers to spend any time in our dorm room (not that she spent much time there anyway since she pretended she lived at the sorority house even though she technically didn't).  But I knew I was a strong young woman, and I would make it through, even if making it through involved sobbing into my pillow for several nights and skipping a few classes because my leg hurt and I didn't want to move.  In fact, I felt like things were getting quite a bit better by the time Bridget showed back in our room a week later and announced that she was done with that boy she had been dating and ready to be here for her best friend again.

All I could do was sigh and thank her.  I felt like I was really starting to outgrow Bridget, but she still tried to be a good friend, and I wouldn't deny her the chance to feel like she was really doing something to help me.  Which, for the record, she really did, more than I ever would have thought possible.