We vowed we'd be friends forever. We said we'd always sit together at lunch

I feel bad about Cindy. I know I've hurt her feelings, and I don't know what to do about it.

I never thought Donna would be like this. We used to have such fun. We used to be so close.

She wants everything to stay just the same it always was. Including me. But I can't stay the same. I've changed.

We used to spend every Saturday together. We'd wash our hair and try out different styles. We'd browse through all the shops at the mall. We'd talk for hours. Donna never wants to spend time alone with me anymore. Every Saturday, she's busy with that dumb conservation group of hers.

I invited Cindy to come with me one Saturday, but she said no. To tell the truth, I was relieved. She doesn't fit in with my new friends. It sounds snobbish to say this, but I don't know any other way to put it: I've outgrown Cindy. She still thinks the way we did when we were nine years old.

I'm all for a clean environment and saving the earth and all of that, but my idea of fun is not volunteering at a recycle centre. Who wants to work with all that trash?

We don't have anything in common anymore. Cindy wants to talk about earrings and which cute boy said what and whether to wear her blue sweater or her green one. The same things she talked about last week and last year.

Donna gets all worked up about politics and civil rights and conservation. If you ask me, all that's a waste of energy. One person can't change anything.

Don't get me wrong. I like pretty clothes and boys, but they are not the focus of my life. I want to help improve our society. I want to make a difference.

I suppose I should just forget about Donna and find someone else to hang out with. But it's hard to forget her. She was always so funny and bright. I always felt more alive when I was with her.

A friend should accept you just the way you are, without wanting to change you. It's hard to do. If I accept Cindy as she is, I don't enjoy spending time with her. I keep wishing she would grow, mentally. I wouldn't even care if she disagreed with my opinions; at least we could have an interesting discussion. As it is now, she doesn't have any opinion about anything that matters. She's stagnant.

The last time Donna and I ate lunch together, she acted bored. It's been months since we talked on the telephone for more than a few minutes. When I called her, she said she couldn't talk because she had to practice her speech. She ran for student body president and won.

There is so much I want to do. Sometimes I feel like a volcano, bubbling and overflowing with ideas and plans and energy.

I voted for her. She'll be a good president. There is so much she wants to accomplish. I'm not like that, and never will be. I feel bad to lose Donna as my best friend. I'll probably never have another friend like her.

I promised Cindy we'd be friends forever. At the time, I truly believed we would be. She'll always be special to me. I'll always care what happens to her. But I have to move on, without her.

People should keep their promises.