This prompt is interesting to me. Since my elementary school days, I haven’t had a fight with any one of my friends. My most recent conflict was probably in the seventh grade, and that was with people who I thought were my friends and wasn’t even a fight, really.
I shall explain.
In the middle of the sixth grade, I transferred into a different middle school. I liked the place far better than the previous one. It seemed like it had everything I wanted. I was right, and I clicked with the school. The general populace was pleasant, but of course, there was the one group that I felt like I had to be a part of. They were kind to me in the sixth grade, but time changed them, made them more nasty, more elitist.
I can’t remember if the day I decided to walk out on them was later in the seventh grade or earlier in the eighth, but here’s what happened: a couple of the more dickish of the group asked me to start dancing around, due to my reputation back then for dancing and not caring about what other people thought. So I did. Next thing I knew, a football was thrown into my ass.
Normally I would have accepted such horseplay; I’m the kind of guy who can take a joke. This time it didn’t feel right though. Their laughs and comments had different tones. It was mostly Kolby though, who I always thought to be a dick ever since he transferred into the same school during the seventh grade and easily inserted himself into that same group, who gave me what felt like a message of, “We don’t really want you here.”
After my pride took a good licking, I decided to go. It was only right. In retrospect, there was never a time when I thought to myself, “These are my kind of people,” while I was hanging out with them. Those “cool kids” later on ended up amounting to a bunch of potheads and further stratified themselves, staying loyal and accepting only to themselves. So do I hate them for what they’ve done? Not at all. Maybe it really was a joke. On the other hand, nobody told me, “Chill out man, we didn’t mean it like that.” But I’ve let it go.
Sometimes I do wonder if they thought I was cool though. Sometimes I wonder if they ever think about why they don’t really hear from me anymore. If they have, I hope they know the answers to both of those questions. If they haven’t, well, it doesn’t really matter when they’re finding solutions to world hunger of discovering secrets to the universe while they’re getting high off their hookahs now, does it?