We were like peanut butter and jelly. Great if eaten separate, but best together. When we first met I felt like I had known him for years. I honestly remember the day like yesterday, the details scorched into my mind and memory. It wasn't my first time starting out at a new school. I had been there and done that several times. However, this was the most frightening. Isn't middle school always a topic that will stop you dead in your tracks. It was a warm August morning, the thirteenth to be exact. We had just pulled in the parking lot. The butterflies in my stomach like whales. Since, fourth grade I had been home-schooled. That was definitely not an easy thing to do, because the only people I interacted with were my parents and dreaded siblings. That however was about to change. I watched as students mingled within each other. Warm greetings, hugs, squeals of excitement. I, though, knew no one but my mother standing next to me.
After, about thirty minutes of waiting mutely in watch of the friendly gathering happening before me, we were ushered into the gym to begin orientation. I meandered over there in a push and shove of the others around me. We were prodded in the direction of the bleachers, but of course there wasn't enough room. I sighed in exasperation, I would be occupying the floor. I tripped over someone's foot and almost fell as I followed the boy in front of me. Grateful to have escaped that near disaster, I lowered myself onto the floor next to an interesting character. Sporting an array of gold chains and a black tee with slicked back hair. I tried to move, as  unnoticeable as I could, away from this boy  He felt uncomfortably close to me. Even though we were all squished together in an attempt to spare most of the gym floor. Two counselors stood in front of us, energetically complementing their second rate school. After which we dispersed into smaller groups to explore this 'Great learning environment'.
Of course, I got stuck with the interesting character from before. He then approached me with a feeble attempt at swagger, I actually found quite amusing. Hiding said amusement, I looked at his face.
“Hi, my name is Enrique,” he said, blushing.
“Hi there, I'm Emily” I smiled at him warmly.
“Where school are you from?” he asked me thoughtfully. Surely, I thought, he really had no interest in knowing. I told him anyway, reluctantly.
“I was home-schooled, what about you?” I returned what seemed to be faux interest with real intrigue. I had honestly learned from past experiences at old schools I went to, that not many wanted to get well acquainted with me. He seemed to be one in a million.
“Cambridge. So have you lived here for a while, just moved or what?” He continued.
“I've lived here for a while, about a year. My mom finally decided to let me go to school this year, I was home-schooled from fourth grade.”
“Oh cool, I've lived here all my life. Actually really close to here.” and so began an awkward conversation between two awkwardly awesome people. What we didn't realize, were completely oblivious to, was that later there would be heartbreak later
A couple months later, I sit alone in a grass field. I'm sobbing loudly. People stare as tears and mascara fly everywhere. How could they not stare? I was quite a sight given my current state. They were probably laughing. I didn't care, I was in shock from the betrayal I had just suffered. I always had tried to keep people at a distance. I feared pain. Was terrified of it. More than anything else, I wanted to avoid it. Sadly, I had let someone in and watched as they spread rumors behind my back. I had lost all my friends to these lies told through bared teeth. Or so I thought. I bury my face into my knees as Enrique sat next to me. I knew with his vast knowledge of all the gossip he'd already been told. He'd seen through the lies, he'd understood. I was comforted by this as he provided me a shoulder to cry on.
The year continued, turned into 2014 and it happened. We moved... again. I threw so many fits, begging, pleading to stay at the school I was in. I didn't want to leave Enrique. My only friend. Someone I could trust. How could I? After all he'd done for me. After he'd been there for me time after time.  I was praying to any God that would listen, to stay at the place I knew. My prayers were answered, if only temporarily. For now though, I was content to hide my self in the fog of denial. Afraid of the pain that would come to showing myself to truth.

Three days left, only three. Seventy-two hours. Four thousand-three hundred-twenty minutes. Two hundred fifty nine thousand-two hundred seconds. I would count each of those seconds until the end, the last day, the last minute, the last second till the bliss of trust is left behind. I woke up on that Monday. I was slow. I couldn't walk. Dread slowed me down, as well as, guilt. I trudge through slush that is terror. Terror for the loss of my best friend. I waited until the end of the day. I watch the many different possible outcomes in the cinema that is my mind. I want to cry as I approach my greatest fear. Enrique smiles at me with the warmth I am used to.
“Only two more days till the end. I can't wait for summer and then next year we'll be in eighth grade, a year closer to high school. Aren't you excited?” he spoke with comfort, saying whatever came first to his mind. Like he always did. He knew I would only listen to him. Not someone he wanted to be, just my best friend.
“I'm so sorry,” tears spilled over my eyelids, racing down my face, they were trying to escape the sadness that is me, “I'm not going here next year, these are my last days here. I'm sorry,” I didn't even bother saying that would could hang out sometime this summer. I didn't want to lie. He looked shocked. I watched as he walked away slowly. I was alone again.
The next two days passed in a blur of  'goodbyes' and 'I'll miss yous'. I tried to pay attention, but I couldn't begin to process their lies. I was too preoccupied with contemplating the many ways to apologize to Enrique. Then, it was the last day.  The words still haunt me today. The last day. It wasn't long enough. I stood outside, waiting for my parents to pick me up. Of course, I was alone. I knew none of the people around me. I just stared down at my ratty shoes. My heart stopped when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around, not knowing who it was, but having hopes for it to be a certain someone. It was Enrique. He sobbed, hugging me and I hugged him back. We sobbed together. My parents pulled up too soon.
“I don't want to let you go, I can't loose you. Your my best friend,” he said to me. He held me at arms length. His eyes probably just as red and puffy as mine from crying.
“You have too. Just do me a favor, never replace me,” I tried to smile. So did he. We didn't say goodbye. It held too much finality. So we parted with that sentence hanging between us. I walked away from the best friend I had ever known. The only one I ever want to know. Over the next few weeks we called each other. As the calls became shorted and spaced further out, my heart broke a little more. We were growing apart. These calls would never be the same as actually being together. We were like a glacier. Once a whole, we suddenly, violently, broke in half. A loud shattering noise. As we slowly drifted away in different directions, we never turned back.
It wasn't my first time starting out at a new school. I had been there and done that several times. However, this was the most frightening. Isn't middle school always a topic that will stop you dead in your tracks. It was a warm August morning\. We had just pulled in the parking lot. The butterflies in my stomach like whales. I had to do this again. I would gain new friends, meet new people. Only new, no familiar. I would make great achievements, but my greatest achievement would be to not get hurt. To not lose anyone else. But pain is inevitable, inescapable. Pain is my greatest fear. We were like peanut butter and jelly. Great if eaten separate, but best together.