Everyone has a replacement item. At midnight on a Thursday you run out of your moisturizer. Everything is closed. But then you remember that over spring break you went to Arizona and needed to buy a travel size knock off. It works in a pinch. That’s me. Not the first choice, but someone that’s always there, always around. Someone that gets the job done when you need them.
I’m the friend that is fun to go out with at night, but you wouldn’t hang out with them under the warm gaze of the sun. Your friendship is reserved for the bright lights of Carson Street. Monday through Thursday you’re not worried about this friend, but you know when the weekend rolls around they’ll show you a good time. A fun time.
You’ll make plans with this friend, but when something else comes up, because it always does, you’ll cancel. You’ll make up a last minute excuse that it’s someone’s birthday or that you have an early morning and leave them forgotten. You never consider that they prioritized you. Laying at home like your childhood dog did, waiting and watching the door for you to come in through that door and make their day. A loyal friend.
When you and your long term long distance girlfriend break up, you know who to call. You know that the girl you’ve been talking to for a month, even though you shouldn’t have, has a reputation of being easy. You don’t know that she’s a hopeless romantic and that her parents are college sweethearts, a pressure always on her mind. You’ve seen her list of accolades on LinkedIn, but you haven’t seen the scars on her legs she’s acquired alongside her hard work. You know you’ll see her legs though. You’re excited, but when it happens you’ll hesitate at the sight of her upper thighs. A sight to see.
She’ll ask you to pick her up, and you will. She’ll charm you, of course, she’s dynamic and funny, and thinks you like her. You don’t know that you’re the first person she truthfully has liked in two years. You don’t know that her collegiate friends don’t recognize her when she talks about you. Because deep down they too consider her to be easy, they think she doesn’t care about other people even if they don’t admit it. You don’t know that when she talks about you to her hometown best friends they remember a softer, younger girl. A sophomore in high school with hair down to her waist who was giddy over the first boy to give her attention. They remember the aftermath where she stayed in her room all summer writing songs on her guitar. A junior in high school with short hair rekindles a flame with a girl she once knew, while it burns out before her girlfriend goes to college. They remember the aftermath when she stopped singing because every song provided a visceral reminder of Isabel. A senior in high school with blunt bangs who promised she would never fall in love and did. They remember the aftermath filled with tears, and saw her find replacements for him. They know how deeply she cared about them, and how the names of her past lovers are now taboo. But sometimes they wonder if now she stopped caring like she swore she would. She’s always been stubborn, her best and worst quality.
After the highschool heartbreak she “became easy”, she became silly, she became outgoing. She became whoever you wanted her to be. The “you” changed on a weekly basis, and each lover gained a new nickname. You might think she came up with the nicknames so she could talk about her flings without anyone knowing. She actually came up with the names to dehumanize them and mask her hurt in humor. Oedipus, Inspector Gadget, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Spider-Man, Banana Bread the list goes on. Your nickname will be “Amish” because you asked her about her body count with disdain as you prided yourself on your singular lover.
When you pick her up, you’ll offer to carry her bag up the flight of stairs to her apartment. You’ll pretend to be interested in whatever she’s rambling about. She sees the best in people, it’s why she’ll be devastated when you ghost her. She thinks you do care, which is why she’ll lean over to kiss you. The kiss will read as confident. The truth is that she has stage fright, she’s never kissed someone first. Ever. You’ll pretend you don’t want anything more to happen, claiming she’s too drunk and you’re sober and that’s not you. She’ll beg. She’ll end up on her knees, and you’ll be happy, getting exactly what you came there for. She’s a giver.
When you wake up Friday morning you’ll remember your ex girlfriend. You’ll compare the two of them. Your ex, the cute girl next door who does ballet versus the girl with tattoos and bangs. You’ll pick the girl who doesn’t want you because you always want what you can’t have. You’ll abandon the replacement. You think back to the night before and think about her confidence. She’s dynamic, she won’t be hurt. She will. She’ll cry. She’ll journal. She’ll tell all of her friends. She’ll call her Catholic mother and come clean. She’ll be on her knees again confessing her sins. Her friends will text her at happy hour apologizing for their busy week, and ask what her plans are for the weekend. She’ll grin and get ready. She’ll fluff her hair, find the perfect pair of low rise jeans, and line her brown eyes. She’ll go through the cycle of crying, giving you a nickname, and pretend to be okay. She’ll find a replacement for you.
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