River - Sarah's story - Chapter 1
The wonderful thing about long lasting friendships is that they often create strange, but very interesting combinations of people.
The persons that used to be very much the same, talking about the same things, with almost synchronized thoughts, will in the end create - or finally show - their own personalities, have their own perfect ideas on how to live life, what to believe and how much they want to share with others about themselves.
What used to be a simple wish to fit in - you all remember high school, right? - will eventually seem strange to most of us. We will blossom into many different personalities, some with a wish to stand out - probably as a reaction to trying to fit in for so many years, some - feeling comfortable in the fitting-in-game - trying to keep a perfect front, showing only the perfect parts of their seemingly perfect lives. And hey, some might even have perfect lives; we've all heard stories about them, haven't we?
What would happen if we could really get to know a group of women; their lives, their secrets and their innermost selves? Would we find that their inner core is basically the same? According to science, we all have with the same fundamental urges that drive us towards the same goals. Or would we find that all people are different from the center and out? And is it the inner parts that define us or the outer layers we show the world?
Let me introduce you to a group of women, childhood friends, all trying to make the most of their lives in a medium sized city, somewhere close by.
Sarah is a warm and loving woman who shares her feelings with everyone. She seems to be always falling in love, but she can't seem to find The Love, the one who appreciates all the love she can give, the one who will actually stay.
Mary is the wild one, with her naughty jokes and full laughter, which sometimes - in the blink of an eye - will change into strange quietness and sad smiles.
The seemingly cold Susan that never does anything impulsive, that always has a plan, and tends to keep all of her secrets behind a somewhat cold smile.
And the woman they all envy, Rose, with her perfect life, rich husband, state of the art nail- and hair-do, her I'm-always-so-happy smile and - if you look a bit closer - eyes that tell the true story behind the perfect lies.
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"Waking up really isn't a good way to start a day" was the first thought that entered my head that morning. Having been an early morning person most of my life, that thought might have come as a surprise, were it not for the massive amounts of paper tissue surrounding my bed.
Yes, I had cried myself to sleep. Then I had woken up and cried myself to sleep again, and again. I once met a person who told me that crying was good for your health. Considering the massive head ache I always woke up with after a night of crying, I'm pretty sure that those health benefits must be completely made up.
If it does seem like I'm unusually used to crying, I have to say, that is actually the truth. My mother used to say that "my emotions always ran high" and used to lecture me about "not wearing my feelings on my sleeve" and for years I tried to keep myself buttoned up, but in the end I just let myself be me.
Being me is usually quite fun. I'm basically always the fun-loving, happy Sarah that keeps everyone smiling with stories, hugs and kisses. And yes, I am a kindergarten teacher, and I love what I do. And the kids seem to love me right back. I have very many friends, both women and men, and just basically a life full of friendship and joy.
And it would be a perfect life, if it wasn't for my not-so-secret wish to have a family of my own combined with a complete inability to attract a male companion for a longer period of time.
It's not like I'm ugly, really. Sure, I'm a big sized girl, but as they say in the world of books, all of my curves really are in the right places. And if it isn't my looks that drive people away then it must be my personality, which just brings us back to the beginning, doesn't it?
My friend Susan once told me she thought that maybe I scared people away by showing such deep emotions so early in my romantic relationships. And lying in bed this past night, crying after another break-up, I started thinking she might be right.
"Just get up and get going" I finally thought to myself. Any more crying and/or possible plans for the future would have to wait, at least for a headache pill and a long shower. Looking at the clock, I realized I was running late. "Short shower then" I said aloud frowning at the time.
I tried to keep a smiling face on at work, but kids are smarter than grown-ups and before the day was through I had gotten a few "why are you sad"-questions that I had a hard time answering. It's not easy to tell a child the whole "well, I fell in love again, but he didn't want to love me back"-story, so I just told them I hadn't slept well.
I had called "the girls" the night before and told them about Danny and me breaking up. They had decided I needed some cheering up, which meant that we would meet for a glass of wine at our regular bar, at a somewhat irregular day and time. We usually met up every other Thursday, as we had done for years, but even a Tuesday would work, if one of us needed the support.
Mary and Rose were waiting at our usual table, back in one corner of the bar. Mary was chewing on one of her nails and Rose was smilingly telling her some sort of story. By the way Rose was waving her hands; it must be a pretty exciting story. I went to the bar and asked for a glass of white wine, any kind of white wine; it really wasn't a day to be picky on.
I started walking back to Mary and Rose and when they saw me they walked up to meet me and gave me a big hug each; Rose with a quick almost-kiss on my cheek and Mary with a slight wince, as if she was in pain.
We all sat down and before I could start talking I heard the unmistakable sound of Susan's high heels with her distinct calm footsteps. I could tell by the slight worry line between her eyebrows that Susan was a bit bothered that we'd strayed from our normal Thursday-plan. When she had fetched her normal - a bit classier than I ever chose - glass of white wine, we were all finally assembled. Susan lightly squeezed my shoulder when she passed me on her way to her chair - an action that was as close to a hug she ever got.
"Ok," Mary started "I want to hear everything about the 'Danny Dating Donna Downstairs Disaster'!"
I'm not sure how coherent I was when I talked to them the night before, but Mary had obviously been able to piece together most of the story. I brought out a paper tissue and started retelling them what I had tried to tell them before.
"Well, it started Friday evening, when Danny was supposed to take me to dinner. He sent me a text telling me that he wouldn't be able to make it. I tried to call him to make new plans but he didn't answer. I then sent him a text asking if he would like to meet up at my place Saturday, just for a movie night, nice food, cuddle in the sofa, that sort of thing. I got no answer to the text, so I tried ringing him a couple of times on Saturday. By Sunday I was getting worried when he still hadn't gotten in touch. "
I took a big sip of wine and then continued.
"You know how I usually help Mrs. Peterson downstairs with her dog on Sundays, when she goes to see her elderly sister for a couple of hours?" all the girls were listening, nodding and sipping their wine "Well, when she opened her door she was looking like she hadn't slept in a week, so I quickly helped her sit down on her sofa and asked her what was the matter, if something had happened with her sister. She just shook her head and started telling me about her next door neighbor Donna and her most recent nightly visitor; a nightly visitor that had become more of a full time visitor these past few days."
