Choose to Forget

“Mija, did you order anything? There’s a package here for you.”

“No, de quién es? Who’s it from?”

“I don’t know, there’s only the initials ‘CF’ for a return address.”

CF? How did I know those so well?

“Okay, thank you Mami, I’ll get it from you on Sunday. What does it look like?”

“It’s wrapped in brown paper, maybe it’s a little book.”

A little book… I couldn’t think of any book between me and CF.

I knew CF. Would she do that? It would explain why she sent it to my parents’ house and not to me - she’s stayed there before, and it’s the last address she has for me. What could she want now?

CF had been my best friend in college. She used to call me her spouse, and I called her that once or twice. We became friends our first year at dance club, and once we were established, she would burst into my room unannounced. It was annoying, but I got over it, and eventually it became endearing.

Sophomore year, we lived “apart” (across campus), and one time I saw her texts too late and found her sleeping on my bed, exhausted and too tired to walk back to her own room after class. It freaked me out, but I guessed this is what best friends did - crash on each other’s beds without getting an answer back. I didn’t say anything.

Junior year I went abroad, and she was the only one I talked to from back home. We FaceTimed once while I was across the ocean, and I told her I hadn’t been in contact with anyone else. I saw a possessive glint in her eye that I didn’t like, but I didn’t say anything. When I came back from abroad, she was… different. I was different too. I liked going out now, which she had been trying to get me to do since first year. She had started dating a guy. What could he have done to change her? She hated thinking men had the power to change her.

She confronted me at the end of junior year - turns out she wanted more from me. Apparently, I didn’t ask her about her day enough. Usually she just told me, so what did it matter?

Early on our senior year, we went to a party at our friend’s room. CF had to leave early, and hugged me good-bye. I never really liked hugs, so it was almost always half-hearted, especially when it was casual. That must have been the last time we hugged. I sat, tipsy with a good time, when our friend told me that CF had been in love with me. My host thought I knew. I didn’t, and neither did I know what to do. Do I tell CF that I know? Do I let her tell me? We were supposed to be best friends, don’t best friends tell each other everything? Why hadn’t she told me?

I decided to wait for her to say something. I couldn't look her in the eye enough to say anything yet.

She kept coming to dance practice, which is how we had become friends in the first place. I kept avoiding looking at her, except to correct her technique. She always said bye to me, but apparently didn’t think it was too strange that I didn’t respond back. Had I always been this distant from her?

She texted me when she broke up with that guy. I tried sending back a supportive message, but made sure not to ask her for more info.

At some point, we had to spend two hours together, just the two of us in her car, to pick up food for an event. She asked me basic questions - how are classes, how’s my family - because we hadn’t caught up since the beginning of the semester. I answered what she asked, and that’s it. Eventually she stayed quiet, and I asked nothing.

Winter break came. She finally messaged me, saying she missed her best friend. I couldn’t stand it any more. I told her she had done things that had made me feel uncomfortable for years, and why hadn’t she told me she had been in love with me? Why did I have to find out from someone else? She said straight girls didn’t react well to being told their best girl friend is in love with them, and she had gotten over it when she had fallen in love with that guy, so it wasn’t relevant any more.

I told her I couldn't be friends with her anymore, and I didn’t want to be strangers. Yet, whenever I saw her on campus, I couldn't bring myself to look her in the eye. She even said something about it when I accidentally messaged her a video from a party I was at. I didn’t reply - it wasn’t worth it.

She messaged me a couple of years after graduation, just saying she hoped I was doing okay. How strange, since I had had a dream about her a couple of days before. In the dream, I had told her that I’m sorry our friendship had run its course, because she had been my closest friend for most of college, and we cried together. In waking life, I did her the courtesy of replying. I really did wish her well, I just couldn’t be part of her life anymore.

Now, almost five years after graduating, a brown-paper-wrapped package has shown up at my parents house. A little book? I never lent her a book. I’m almost surprised it wasn’t a letter; she was a sappy person.

On Sunday with my parents, I stared at the small package while my mom was cooking in her tiny kitchen. The package was on the table so I wouldn't forget to take it. I stared at the lack of return address. I realized that this time, CF was giving me a choice. She had made the choice for me that we would be friends, bursting into my room. She had made the choice for me that I wouldn’t get to react to her being in love with me. Even when she texted me a couple of years ago, she had given me the choice to not answer, but it was difficult to not read. This time, a package was marked with her initials, telling me it’s from her, but not that I have to open it. I don’t have to open it. I can refuse to open it, and it will make no difference to her. Maybe it was a little journal detailing her friendship with me. Maybe it was the bracelet I had gotten her from abroad. Maybe it was empty, only serving as a reminder that she was alive and thinking of me. It wouldn't matter if it ended up in the trash. There would be no memories to relive, only...