Oh, I love football games. It’s not the game, but the scene that I love. The people, the cheers, the happiness. Everyone smiling, laughing, talking, shouting, cheering… nothing sad at all. That’s why I like cities and dance clubs and stores. The people are interesting to me. I’m marveled by people’s actions, both mean and kind.
I love to walk, too. I’m walking now to the concession area. The popcorn smells good. I’ll get some popcorn and a drink. Popcorn always makes me thirsty. Oh, there’s a long line. I’ll have to wait. I hate lines. I have always hated lines. They’re so structured and trapped-like. Standard, organized, and unoriginal. I don’t like feeling like a lamb among other lambs being herded to a certain destination. I like things to be individualistic and creative. Original, unique, and different.
My friends are also in the line. I might join them. I may as well be a lamb for a little while, among friends. They don’t have to be the only ones to be among lambs because they, like me, are not lambs.
I catch one’s eye and I smile and wave to her. She turns to her friend and they both look back at me. I’m still smiling… me being so innocent and naive, so trustful in my friends.
But then I thought my eyes were deceiving me. They were running away from me, laughing. My friends were running away from me! I believed it was a joke, so I ran after them. “Hey! Wait a minute! This joke has gone far enough!” I thought to myself. I had caught the eye of who I thought was my closest friend, but I saw that she was an enemy who wore a mask for so long. I had thought she was someone like me: different from the lambs that surrounded her. I knew then that she was not who I thought she was. She was truly a lamb in a lion’s disguise.
I walked back to the other side of the stands, wondering, “Why would someone do this to me?” I was crying and I kept my head low as I traveled up the steps of the stands to the top.
I found an empty spot and sat down. I could not understand how someone could change so fast. A person I had thought was my friend, had betrayed me. She had lied to me in a way that spoken words were not necessary. I brought my feet up onto the bench and rested my head upon my knees. I tried to calm myself. I tried not to cry. I tried not to be so angry. I tried not to misinterpret anything. I tried to understand.
The girl was not like a dog that you’ve owned for several years who has, in a way, become a part of your family. She was not trustworthy like the loyal family dog. She was like a blue jay that was greedy and unfaithful. She pecked at my heart and at my brain. She made me feel confused when I had felt confident. Disarrayed, my feelings were hanging by a thread.
I was so upset, I could not see the people who cared. People who, when they noticed my sadness, asked me what was wrong. One person even tried to cheer me up. Tried to lift my spirits. He tried to make me see the people I loved so much to be around. The sights, the sounds, the smells, the feelings… everything was still the same. Yet, it wasn’t. I could see who was a lamb and who was not a lamb. He and I were not lambs, but I turned him away. I could not see. I could not hear. I could not feel. I could not understand.
A little more than a year has passed since then. I have changed more in better ways since that first change from a trusting person to a person who seeks trust. I have forgiven my friend, because she has also changed, for the better. But the complete trust and faith I had in her so long ago can never be restored, replaced, or replinished. I now trust in her a different way. I have become stronger emotionally and I understand things more clearly now. This event has given me a lesson that continues to teach me everytime I reflect upon it. It has taught me to still trust, hope, and love even in the light of darkness.