"Dreams come true"

I have been in love with Peter for 3 years. I fell in love with him on the 12th of March and now, precisely 3 years later, I still love him. 3 years is a formidable time to be in love. If the other person loved you back it would be called an anniversary. Peter doesn't love me, so it's not an occasion to celebrate, only to feel despondent. I don't know why he doesn't love me. He has had numerous girlfriends, so I can't say he's frigid. Maybe it's because I know him so well. He's my best friend, you see.

. I'm the kind of person who falls in love once and holds forever to that feeling, no matter the pain involved. Maybe that's why Peter doesn't love me; maybe I'm too serious. Not that I'd change that, or anything else. I'm a feminist who believes you should love who you are, warts and all, and so should your true love.

.Wonder what it'd be like to kiss him? Can't exactly ask that, can I? "Hey, Peter's girlfriend! Just wondering.not interested really.what's it like, kissing the man I am in love with?" Yeah, and that'd go down real well.

.Maybe it's because today, 3 years ago I fell in love with Peter or maybe it was that dream last night. Don't really remember much about it, really. The important part was that Peter enclosed me in his arms and rained kisses on my face while I huddled in his embrace wondering if it meant he loved me as much as I loved him, watching his girlfriend watch. Maybe that's why I ache to be with him so much right now. The weird thing is that given the chance I don't even know if I would date him. See, it might destroy our friendship if we broke up. I don't know if I could live without him in my life. I don't believe a man is essential to a woman's happiness, but they are certainly a nice edition.

.Went to a party last night. Saw Jane, Peter's girlfriend. She was fawning over him as usual. She is entirely to dependant on him, if you ask me. She says she asked God for a sign that she shouldn't end her life and then she met Peter and I at the same time, and her world became right again. Did she ever stop to think it was me she was waiting for? I'm her best friend, you see. I'm real glad she didn't do anything stupid, but.I'm not bitter, I swear.

.Went to another party. Boring as all Hell. Why do I even bother? Hate parties, really. Only go 'cos my friends tell me to. Reckon I need to get a social life, a boyfriend. Ha. Wish I could tell them that the only boyfriend I want is far out of my reach. What would they say to that.?

.Stuff you, Peter. I am finished with him from now on. Bet you want to know why I've suddenly declared war on the guy I've been mooning over for 3 years. Did the nearest thing to punching me in the gut, he did. Here's the story: Jane told Peter she thought I had been spreading rumours about him. He told me something not long ago that I'm sure he wanted to keep a secret. I shan't tell you what, in case someone reads this. I'm pretty well incriminated anyway, but.Anyway, Peter.I've never seen him so angry and upset before, and I've seen him both. I don't think I said a lot the whole time he was yelling at me. I was partly so confused and hurt and upset that he would actually think I would do that, and then pure unadulterated rage took over and I clenched my hands and shook from head to toe until he wound down slightly and I said quite calmly, my eyes blazing and my voice held only a slight quaver. I held his gaze, looking at him as though he was a new person, a detestable one who I did not like and wanted nothing more to do with.

"Do you have no faith in me? Does everything we've been through mean nothing? You would blow away our friendship for a cruel, malicious lie? Do you not trust me more than that? I sure trusted you more." And I walked away.

.Wonder if he still believes I said those things? No, I will not let myself.Oh, Peter!

.What a wonderful thing alcohol is! Now I know why Mary and Sally practically worship the stuff. All your troubles just blend away and all that is left is what you want to see. Once you get past the awful taste, it is the very elixir of life.

.Never used to go to these parties 'cos I didn't trust myself to say no to alcohol if it was offered to me, but now I see what I've been missing out on. Mary and Sal are having the time of their lives now that their stick in the mud friend has conformed.

.Why didn't they tell me about the after-effects of the alcohol? Have such a pounding headache.I can't even focus on this.. I shall never drink again!

Ha! Drinker's oath. Oh, my head, my stomach, everywhere from the ankles up! If only the oblivion grog brings wasn't worth this!

.Haven't seen Peter in weeks. Haven't seen my report card, either. Don't want to, really. Haven't been to school.God, I need a drink.

.Third drink today and it's barely struck nine. Hasn't anyone noticed I'm not at school? What's wrong with me? I'm failing school, failing life. Parents have given up, don't have any friends anymore. 'Cept Peter. Peter! This is all his fault! And Jane's, creating that cruel rumour just 'cos she felt threatened. WHAT is that incessant ringing? Oh, it's the doorbell. Almost forgotten what that sounds like.don't get many visitors these days.

Blast him and his holier than thou attitude! Coming round here pretending he actually cares what's happening to me.The sun was so bright downstairs I could hardly see him.

"What are you doing?" He demands first thing. No hello, just accusations, straight off.

"Good to see you, too." I mumbled, stepping back automatically to let him in.

Looking back, I see that was probably the moment I made my biggest mistake. Peter did not look impressed at my attempt at wit, and repeated his question. I shrugged and deliberately poured a large decanter of whisky. I offered one to him, but he glared at me.

"You're drinking yourself into a stupor." He said matter- of- factly. "I'm worried about you." He continued. I snorted. "Really? Yeah, right. Nobody else is, are they? So why should you be?" I took a sip at my yellowish liquid. "Friends always forget those whom fortune forsakes." Peter smiled slightly at the lapse back into my alter ego; the one people liked.

"Fortune has nothing to do with it. You are doing this to yourself." My eyes were becoming a little unfocused by now, and I stared muzzily up at him through the haze.

"You have no idea.' I said, glad my speech had not yet begun to slur. "This is all because of you." Peter recoiled. Whatever he had been expecting me to do, this was not it.

"That's right. I started this after you showed me exactly how much, or how little really, you trusted me." Peter stared at me, bewildered.

"But-but I never knew. You never told me." I crossed my arms.

"Why would I do that?" I asked bitterly. "It's not exactly as though you'd care, is it?" I ignored the shocked look on Peter's face and drained my glass. "Now you've done your saintly duties you can get out." I pointed to the door and Peter willingly fled.Swear I hate the man I love.

.Don't understand.too many thoughts, too many emotions.Got completely wasted last night. Yeah, really let loose. Dunno quite how it ended up happening, but Melanie and Chase, two of my best drinking buddies (Sal and Mary were nowhere to be seen) dragged me down to 'the tunnel.' The tunnel is a big.tunnel that starts at the kid's park and leads down to the beach and the Surf Club. It's so completely covered in graffiti that I don't even know what colour it used to be. Anyway, The Tunnel is the most popular place to drink, and that's where I ended up that night. Don't remember a lot of the first bit, just hanging off a lamppost singing 'I am woman." I don't think it was too soon after that that Peter found me. Actually, I think he probably saw that. Sort of lost a bit here. Next thing I know, Peter's followed me into a toilet (It's 12:00 at night, who knows or cares which toilets they use?). I tripped over my own feet and he managed to catch my arm, hefting me onto the bathroom bench.

"Wow!" I said, "It's really high up here." I linked my arms around Peter's neck, swinging slightly. "Did you see me sing, Pete? I am woman, watch me roar!" I sang loudly, my voice echoing off the walls. Now, my voice is one of those that are terrible to listen to, but when illuminated with echoes, it sounds almost urethral. I shrieked with laughter at the sound and fell forward off the bench, stumbling as I slipped, pulling Peter to the floor with me. I laughed hysterically before turning suddenly dreamy.

"You know what?" I asked in a singsong.

"What?" Peter asked wearily. He watched my whole performance without expression.

"You're mad and I'm not!" I yelled, rolling backwards, offering anyone who cared to look a fine view of my underwear. Peter averted his eyes and I rolled forwards again. I leant towards him, looking him in the eye.

"I love you. Did you know that?" I giggled at the look on his face. Suddenly there was a tug at my queasy feeling stomach.

"You know what else?" I asked dreamily. "I'm going to be sick." And I was. Repeatedly. I made it to the nearest cubicle, though and as I heaved the contents of my stomach into the bowl, I felt hands on my back and hands holding my hair out of the way. When I had finished, I leant back against the cubicle wall, panting, sobbing and sweating. I crawled out and managed to stand up. Suddenly someone seized me from behind, pushing me forwards to look in the stained mirror.

"Do you want this?" Peter asked savagely. "I can't believe you really want this. A drunken sod!" I whimpered. "Do you?" I stared at myself in the mirror. I was a sight! Longish hair dishevelled and hanging in frizzy unkempt curls around my face and shoulders. What had once been a sexy and appealing top but was now merely rags hung torn and ripped on my shoulders, exposing one shoulder and my bra strap. Black, skimpy Lycra skirt far to small and stained beyond mention rested too low on my hips. But my eyes and face really caught my drunken attention. I had never been particularly beautiful, but my face was bruised and swollen, and my eyes.Oh, how my eyes had changed! Bloodshot and empty I was looking into the face of a stranger and the monster I had always tried to avoid becoming.

"God no!" The cry burst from my lips before I registered the thought. No, I did not want to be like this. I felt wretched. I could feel vomit around my mouth, my face and eyes were stinging and sticky from tears and everything was clammy and ached. I rinsed my mouth and my face and straightened up. As soon as I did so, Peter grabbed me from behind, turning me around. He wrapped me in his warm arms, and I, even in my drunken state wondered if that meant he loved me as much as I loved him. As he rained kisses onto my face and neck, I decided it did. I realized, quite suddenly, huddled in his embrace, that my dream had come true. Literally.