Elise

This morning I woke up to a message from my dad. He said I should call because he had a letter from Elise that he would like to read to me. Elise was my best friend in high school. It was decided on a dry erase board in my back hallway sophomore year. I think I still have a picture of it. We haven't talked in over 7 years now.

My first recollection of Elise was sometime in the first week at a new school. She and her crew were walking behind me. Elise and I were wearing the same shirt that day and I over heard her say, "Ew, I'm going to go change." She was that girl. I was completely mortified. That was probably one of the days I spend in the bathroom stall. I'm not sure how it all happened, but within a few weeks we were sitting together in study hall exchanging notes and sharing candy.

Our friendship was really a bit of an enigma. When it came down to it, we had absolutely not one single thing in common. She's the girl who got pregnant in high school and I'm the girl who went to Bible school after. She chain smoked and I couldn't get through half a cigarette without having to sit down. I never swore in my life and she had the foulest mouth you've ever heard. But regardless, we spent every waking second of three years together. She practically lived at my house. We laughed a lot. We could be really ridiculous together. Her bad side was scary but her good side was secure. She was stunningly beautiful on the outside but could be pretty horrendously ugly on the inside. But I saw so many moments of the realest her and I guess that was enough. She was a really good friend. She was the place I could always be. Ironically enough, considering our beginning, of all people in the entire world she is the one who I have experienced the deepest level of acceptance with. I don't know if we ever really had one significant conversation, but her room was my room and my room was hers. We never asked each other to be someone else. She would be there for me anywhere anytime and I would be there for her. I guess that can cover a multitude of sins.

Until one day it all just fell apart. She committed the ultimate high school transgression. She made out with Scott, MY crush. She passed me a note in American History in which she called me a quote, "selfish bitch" for not being happy for her. I hate that word. Its the ugliest word in the world. I can't even tolerate being called any swear word as a joke, but that was real and that was ugly. I'd never been the object of her wrath before, and wait a minute, she betrayed me. I sort of forgave her eventually and we tried to move on, but basically it just turned a light on for me that I couldn't turn back off. Over the years I walked with her as she sunk into a level of bitterness and anger that entirely consumed her. She craved destruction. It became increasingly clear that the precarious space on which our friendship stood was being disrupted.

I knew I was meant to live on a level that she simply was not ready not follow me to. It was really hard. God was pulling me into himself and it was a force so much stronger than anyone could reckon with. I always drove to school and I remember having to pick her up the morning after the big fight. It was one of the most comical/awkward moments of my entire life. We're driving along in complete silence, little brothers in the back seat, and No Doubt comes on the radio... "I feel like I'm loosin' my best friend - I can't believe this could be - the end - don't speak - I know just what you're thinkin..'." It was awful. I wanted to laugh so hard but neither of us could break a smile. We tried to maintain some kind of relationship. She called when her twins were born and sent me pictures now and then. We wrote a few letters, but it was pretty useless. I disagreed with just about every decision she ever made and she couldn't see past her bitterness into my world.

Looking back, I think it was mostly me who checked out. I lost hope for her. I really did. She had chosen her path and was insanely stubborn. She had no pull toward the light. No desire for purity or beauty. She gave herself over to the darkness and could no longer see. But even worse, she knew it and she didn't care. I didn't know what to say anymore.

So this morning my dad read me this letter. She had sent it to him. She said that something is changing in her. She is wanting to believe and that it is people like my dad who give her the strength to do that. She said that she always thought he was an idiot for serving people so selflessly without expecting anything in return. She said that she thought it was really pitiful the way he let people take advantage of him and our family, but was beginning to understand it now. She said that so much of her life has been consumed by bitterness. She hated the church's hypocrisy and facade, but that what she saw in him was real. She said she couldn't explain what has brought this on, but that she hopes she can have that kind of self-less faith some day. She said to tell the whole family that she thinks about us and is thankful. I have no idea why this letter to my dad after so many years. But I have her address now and I am going to write her.