She Told Me It Was Okay to Cry By Amanda (Drmaqn3@aol.com )
She Told Me It Was Okay to Cry Disclaimer: This story is based on She Told Me It Was Okay to Cry by Daphna Renan, which can be found in Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul. Key structures and phrases are taken from that story. No infringement intended.
And obviously, I don't own "Roswell." (Wow, was that a serious disclaimer? Go me!)
Author's Note: This takes place after "Destiny" and is told from Maria's point of view. This story is about her friendship with Liz and I would like to take this opportunity to dedicate this to my best friend, Shannon, for always being there.
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She came to me last night. She was miserable. Makeup was smeared all over her normally perfectly done face, her eyes were bloodshot from crying, her voice was cracking, and tear tracks were visible on her unconventionally beautiful face. She told me about her love-- and I saw a reflection of my own. She told me about his destiny-and I saw her pain. She told me about she needed a friend-- and I saw hope, because I could at least give her that.
We met in the first grade. She was missing a tooth; I was missing my friends. I had recently moved across the city only to find cold metal chairs and cold, grim faces at the door of Room 19, my new classroom. I asked her if I could use her crayons, even though I didn't really like to color; she said yes, even though she didn't really like to share. Perhaps we were both looking for a smile. Well, that we found. We found someone to laugh and drink hot chocolate with on cold winter days when school was canceled and would sit together on the loveseat, watching the snow fall.
That summer, a bee stung me at her pool. She held my hand and told me it was okay to cry-- so I did. That fall, we raked the leaves in her backyard and took turns jumping into the pile, never fearing because we knew the multi-colored leaves would break our fall.
We stayed best friends ever since then, but we have drifted apart in the past few months. Only now, she had fallen but there was no one to catch her.
We both fell in love with men we knew could never stay because of predestined mates, no matter how much they cared. Her words were not alien to me, and neither was her yearning. Her need for strength and new start reflected my own needs. I saw that she needed me more than ever now.
Throughout the years, when there was a crisis, she was always the strong one, the one who comforted me and told me everything was going to be okay. But I knew that, now, in this crisis, I needed to be strong for her. I needed to be calm and rational for her like she has been for me, time and time again. So I held her hand and assured her I would always be there for her and love her, no matter what, and that it was okay to cry-- so she did.