Best Be Home

By: Molly
My best friend and I used to stay up all night together. When I would wander in past curfew, she acted as the perfect scapegoat. She introduced me to new cultures, interests, and some of my favorite restaurants. I digested and honored her past, and she held onto some of my deepest dreams and wonderment. It was with her that I had my first taste of freedom, and beer. Once, I looked at her with tears in my eyes because we had accomplished so much together, I felt that nothing could dim our lights. She always looked prettiest in her blue shirt with the collar.

After I went to college in a different state and she remained at home, I continued to be her number one cheerleader. I’d constantly assure people that they would be so lucky to meet my best friend in person. During moments of doubt in my dorm room, it was her lessons and images of that beautiful blue shirt that energized me. When I returned home for visits, she was my finish line. We spent countless hours during those short weekends reminiscing and exploring.

Gradually, a new group of people began calling her their best friend. They saw her as broken and in need of repair, so they bombarded her with new beliefs that she reluctantly accepted. She became something she’s never been before, and was rid of that blue shirt that was such a part of her identity. We still see each other on the weekends, but the majority of the conversation is dominated by her new friends. I’d be happy to tell them who she really is, if they ever care to go searching for the real Milwaukee. 

Oh, hello!

Oh, hello!
We're Sarah and Kaitlyn, roommates from Milwaukee who started this blog to promote creativity and life.
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