Moving out a lot definetly taught me what a real friendship is. See, when I left Argentina, I thought my friendswho I had known for some time, were my best friends and that I would know them forever. When I went back to Argentina to visit, though, it wasn't like they cared and they backstabbed me. In the end, we were all very immature. In Mexico, I first had one friend who I also called my best friend but just because she was my only friend.  Later on, I moved to a different American school and I made friends there. When I walked in to my first class, and looked around, I saw two girls there that I just knew would be my friends. Well, one of them. And in fact, she was the first one to talk to me. After that we became good friends and she had other friends too, so I was part of their little group after some time. That same year, we became very close friends and the father of my first friend (who's name by the way is Caliope) passed away. We became so close, that the day her father passed, she wanted me to be there, so I was. I was there with all my heart, going to visit her as much as I could, no matter the distance, and no matter how I felt being in her house, which scared me, and how uncomfortable I felt. And I did all that I could to make her happy and luckily I was able to accomplish it. I was able to make her laugh, when I thought I never would. She was always by my side no matter how stupid and immature I was being- cuz i really do remember being a complete idiot but it has happened to all of us. She did things to make me happy also, like talk to the guy I liked for me. Later on, it felt as things were changing and I didn't even notice, but it was as if she was turning her back on me, and did things to make me jealous, but then when she wasn't doing that, she was being nice and "okay" with me. She became a negative vibe, and so did everything else. After three years, I moved out to Venezuela, where most of the things I can remember from my first year, many of them being good, but I recall myself being sad, maybe bitter, and isolated. Luckily, I made friends fast in school, but something in me felt empty and alone. Good thing was that my friends were nice and since they were from different parts of the world, I didn't feel left out because we were all different. After two months, I went to Mexico to visit and found my friends very different but at the same time very much like they were. My friend Caliope was throwing a Hallowing party so the house was filled with people. First of all, they didn't even care so much to see me which dissapointed me but my skin was thick enough to bare with that, and I still had hope. But later, I found they were ignoring me so much, I just went inside and upstairs and saw a couple of girls from my school. So I sat down and started talking to them- they also were very different. We started talking nicely and all, and then one of them came clean with me and told me that Caliope and another friend had been backstabbing me before I even got there. I asked her in detail to tell me what they said, and i bursted into tears. My skin wasn't thick enough to take that. And I thought, "I may have made some mistakes, but after all that I have done for them...." I knew I had given them my loyalty, support, and I knew that I sometimes WAS an idiot, but just how I knew they weren't perfect either, I expected them to stand by my side the same way I did. I cried so much, and the girls said "Don't cry, they're not worth it" and I said "I thought we were best friends.." After some time, I tried to act like nothing was wrong, and when my friends started getting drunk sick, I still sat by them and took care of them. Although I still had a knife on my heart that I couldn't take off. They had been the world to me, I thought they were true friends, and forever lasting friendships. I left with a lot of pain, and by June that year, I had to go back and they said they were sorry so I forgave them as best as I could. But before that, in Venezuela, my friends also became close. I had to leave for a month that year, to Argentina, because we had to renew some papers. And when I got back, my friends from Venezuela were completely different with me. They didnt wait for me when class was over anymore, and just left, and I had to run behind them. And although I told them, they 'seemed to forget'. They didn't ask me to go out with them anymore, and when I asked them if they wanted to, they said they had stuff to do, but then I realized they went out together without me. I didn't know if I was doing something wrong but I didn't feel I was. Then I thought, "It's happening again, I fell for it again" and the knife I once had, re appeared and I cried inside. I realized I had to stand tall, by myself, and I had to be independent. I realized I couldn't rely on support or friendship and I had to go on. But when I did that, they suddenly acted like they cared, and I fell for it again and again. Eventually, something happened that we became friends again, and I was able to forgive once more. By the next year, my attitude changed to more positive and happy, and my friends and I really became incredibly close- inseparable, although we had our fights now and then. But good thing was, we learned to be honest and open instead of backstabbing. We had grown a little bit more, and this definetly influenced on our honest friendship. We've always been immature, and we still are, but then again, eveyone is immature most of their life, until each person knows who they are. My friends from Venezuela showed me the support and loyalty I used to give to my friends from Mexico, and I wasn't being that way with them for some time because I had bubble wrapped. But then I was able to open up again to a great extent, and I showed the same love. Though, I had too much poison in my heart that made me had a sort of visible bubble wrap that has kept me somewhat distant from people. By the end of the year, my friends proved their friendship by throwing me a surprise party- something I always wished my friends from Mexico would do, like I did to them, but they didn't. And I thought that the friends that threw a surprise party would be my true friends, but then I thought, it's not going to happen- not in many years. I had to leave, and I knew I would stay in contact with my friends but since i had my bubble wrap, I didn't expect them to pay any attention to me when I left, or even to miss me or remember me. But they promised me they would, and they kept their promise. And when I didn't even expect it, life gave me something that I didn't expect when the cut in my heart had just scarred. Now I think of friendship and I think of my two best friends in Venezuela, Nadia and Isabella. And I'm actually gonna visit Nadia the 25th of dec, 06. Isabella sadly, won't be there. And I miss her but I will see her soon hopefully. Now, theres nothing I value more than their friendship. Its the reward life gave me. Theres nothing more I could ask for.