“Hi, is Jessica there?”
“No she’s not.”
“Do you know when she’ll be back?”
“She doesn’t live here anymore.”
“What?”
“She doesn’t live here anymore.”

That was how I found out that Jessica got sent away.  There I was 1500 miles away from the person who meant the most to me in my life and there was nothing I could do.  I thought that moving away over 2 years ago was bad, but this was worse.  Whenever I called, her parents were no help.  They blamed me for the problem. They thought that I was this evil influence on her, even though I hadn’t seen her in two years.  I had no idea how she was doing or where she was.  I had my mother call and find out the vital statistics.  I couldn’t bring myself to deal with her parents.  How could they do this to me?  Didn’t they know how hard growing up was, and that without her it would be more difficult for me?  I talked to my mom, and she told me it was for the best.  That she would come back eventually a healthy, happy girl.  But I didn’t think there was anything wrong with her.  I didn’t care; I wanted my best friend back.

At first I was told that I couldn’t talk to her for thirty days and I thought that would kill me.  But as June 15th came and went without a phone call, I began to wonder if she was being brainwashed.  I had no way of reaching her.  Thousands of questions ran through my mind and I didn’t have anyone to answer them.

Until one day…I signed on the Internet and saw Gill online.  Gill was the best friend of Jessica’s boyfriend.  We talked occasionally and I thought he might have more information than I did.  Amazingly Steven, the love of her life, was there.  We never got along in the past, but from that moment on, we became each other’s best friend. Although he was stubborn and judgmental, I was able to overlook his flaws and find comfort in him.  Because of him I finally understood how my best friend disappeared from the face of the Earth.  She had been staying at his house when a family friend came to get her and take her to talk with her dad.  When she left she promised to call Steven as soon as she got back. That was the last anyone had heard from her. I provided support for him too.  I was able to reassure him that she wouldn’t just forget him and move on.  We shared ‘Jezi’ stories, spent many hours crying over the phone, racking up hundreds of dollars each month.  But the most important thing was still missing.

After 6 months the situation became a lot easier.  I was finally able to go to sleep at night without lying awake for hours praying that she was okay.  I no longer cried at everything that reminded me of her.  I was able to watch My Best Friend’s Wedding (our favorite movie) without her.  When I went back to visit my old house over Christmas, I walked by her house.  I can’t even count the number of times I went up to that door, had my finger on the bell, only to become overwhelmed with fear, turn away and “run to Halifax.” I visited all of the places we used to hangout, the places we would sneak out to and meet to share the latest stories about our boyfriends and saw our old friends.  All without having an emotional breakdown.  I emailed her all the things I needed to tell her, knowing that one day she would read it, thinking that in some way, she would know that just because I was thinking it, and she would be feeling it.