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There aren't many things I regret doing in my life, but there is something that an 8-year-old me did almost thirteen years ago that still makes me shake my head in shame.

When I was in the third grade I had a good friend named Tony. We were two peas in a trouble-making pod. We'd share inside jokes while the teacher was talking, laughing behind her back when she turned around,and exercised as much self control as two third graders could to swallow our laughter by the time she turned back around. One day we were playing a series of tic-tac-toe games during class. It was his turn to go first, and I knew it, but for some reason I didn't want to let him have it. I insisted that it was my turn, he argued that it was his. We went back and forth like this for a while until I told him I would stop being his friend if he didn't let me go first. He instantly caved in and apologized but I stubbornly refused him. "Too late", I had said " I'm not your friend".

For a few days after that day he would beg me to be his friend again, but staying true to my hard-headed, prepubescent self I continued to give him the cold shoulder. Eventually he stopped trying to be my friend and we stopped communicating all together.We started hanging out with other people and we graduated from grade to grade without exchanging so much as a glance. It wasn't until the eighth grade, FIVE years later, that we engaged in some short, casual and superficial small talk. This was a one time thing, though. During my first or second summer of college I decided to reach out to him on facebook and apologize for being such a brat more than nine years back. He told me that he vaguely remembered the incident and I was happy when he started to joke about the whole thing. By this time my conscious was appeased, but I was still racked with regret. I never stopped  wondering about what our friendship could have been if I hadn't been so stubborn. We probably missed out on a bunch of laughs and memories because of my pride and I wish I could go back in time and slap some sense into my 8- year old self. 

Not only was this the longest grudge of my life, but it was my stupidest. I know I was only 8, but de-friending Tony was the stupidest thing I had ever done. 

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Comment by Maria Teresa Rodriguez on July 25, 2012 at 1:05pm

This is a great story! But I'm very happy you and Tony are talking again

Comment by Cynthia Amaya on July 25, 2012 at 10:34am

I'll just say to you what is so often said to me: everything happens for a reason! Maybe Tony wouldn't have been such a great friend and you just saved yourself all that trouble! :)


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