REVENGE
April 14,
“It’s a rainy Tuesday here, and it’s Marco's and I’s tenth wedding anniversary, so I wanted to write in a journal for today and thought, why not write about how we both met?
It started with a girl named Heather Fowler, who was my best friend. We were inseparable; ‘Best Friends in Connorsville High’ was what we were voted for in high school. Ending phone calls with “I love yous” and promising to stay friends forever. ‘Ang and Heather for life,’ right? Oh, how naive I was to believe that from her.
It was the night after prom, at Gabby Pruit’s sleepover party, when the truth came out. Heather, Gabby, and a few others were there, laughing about my weight. My insecurities. Calling me names like “Princess Porker” or “Donut Queen.”
They just didn’t know that I was listening in on the other side of the door. It hurt the most when Heather, my best friend, was the one that started it all.
I ended up going home. I said that I wasn’t feeling well. I’m sure they weren’t too upset then; more time to call me names, I bet.
When I confronted Heather at school, I was appalled. She didn’t deny any of it. She didn’t say anything at all. She just looked down at the ground. No apology, nothing to explain; she just knew that I now knew, and the worst thing about it was when she said, ‘Well if you look at us,’ gesturing at the other girls: pretty, slim, different from me. And it was all I needed to hear.
I ran away from her and out of that miserable school. High school never changed; everyone stared at me as I ran away; not one helped after seeing that. I was crying so much that I forgot it had rained the night before. I slipped into the mud, and everything came crashing down on me.
I lost a best friend that day.
Heather had tried contacting me after we graduated, but I politely declined. What’s done is done, and I want nothing from her anymore. She had ruined our friendship, and I was finally at peace.
So, where does Marco fit into this story?
After I slipped in the mud that day, a hand reached out to help me. I was wiping away the tears from my now muddy hands that I didn’t even notice. But there he was, Marco DiPierro, Heather’s boyfriend. The boy she was in love with, who she said she wanted to marry one day, who became mine after that day.
I like to remind him of how I stole him from Heather. He laughed and said that he wouldn't have chased after me if she hadn’t shown her true colors that day. He was chasing fate, he would later add.
And the rest is history. Ten years later, we’re still in love. Love has a funny way of finding you, as revenge best served cold.”
Love, Angela DiPierro.
“It’s a rainy Tuesday here, and it’s Marco's and I’s tenth wedding anniversary, so I wanted to write in a journal for today and thought, why not write about how we both met?
It started with a girl named Heather Fowler, who was my best friend. We were inseparable; ‘Best Friends in Connorsville High’ was what we were voted for in high school. Ending phone calls with “I love yous” and promising to stay friends forever. ‘Ang and Heather for life,’ right? Oh, how naive I was to believe that from her.
It was the night after prom, at Gabby Pruit’s sleepover party, when the truth came out. Heather, Gabby, and a few others were there, laughing about my weight. My insecurities. Calling me names like “Princess Porker” or “Donut Queen.”
They just didn’t know that I was listening in on the other side of the door. It hurt the most when Heather, my best friend, was the one that started it all.
I ended up going home. I said that I wasn’t feeling well. I’m sure they weren’t too upset then; more time to call me names, I bet.
When I confronted Heather at school, I was appalled. She didn’t deny any of it. She didn’t say anything at all. She just looked down at the ground. No apology, nothing to explain; she just knew that I now knew, and the worst thing about it was when she said, ‘Well if you look at us,’ gesturing at the other girls: pretty, slim, different from me. And it was all I needed to hear.
I ran away from her and out of that miserable school. High school never changed; everyone stared at me as I ran away; not one helped after seeing that. I was crying so much that I forgot it had rained the night before. I slipped into the mud, and everything came crashing down on me.
I lost a best friend that day.
Heather had tried contacting me after we graduated, but I politely declined. What’s done is done, and I want nothing from her anymore. She had ruined our friendship, and I was finally at peace.
So, where does Marco fit into this story?
After I slipped in the mud that day, a hand reached out to help me. I was wiping away the tears from my now muddy hands that I didn’t even notice. But there he was, Marco DiPierro, Heather’s boyfriend. The boy she was in love with, who she said she wanted to marry one day, who became mine after that day.
I like to remind him of how I stole him from Heather. He laughed and said that he wouldn't have chased after me if she hadn’t shown her true colors that day. He was chasing fate, he would later add.
And the rest is history. Ten years later, we’re still in love. Love has a funny way of finding you, as revenge best served cold.”
Love, Angela DiPierro.
