My parents always referred to them as "lost puppies."

My parents always told me not to "get lost with them."

It wasn’t until I was an adult that I realized exactly what a lost puppy was.

It wasn’t until I was an adult that I realized how easy it really was to get lost with them.

Growing up, I was a fairly social kid. I was loud, liked to play with my brother outside, and participated in a variety of afterschool activities ranging from dance to soccer to 4-H. I had two loving parents and extended family that I visited with regularly. I had a normal upbringing, lived in a house, had a dog and a cat.

I however, was not the best at making friends.

I never seemed to really ‘click’ with anyone, I was always the second-choice friend. You know the one. The friend that you call after you tried your regular group because you don’t want to be alone. That friend that never really seems to have any plans. That friend that you like but, there that one ‘thing’ about them so you just don’t always see eye to eye. It’s that friend that you invite over because they do what you want to do. They use the broken toys or the junky Xbox controller when you play games and they smile about it.

For me, I was always the second choice friend. Always. And it takes a toll.

The first time I remember this happening was in second grade, her name was Sara*. She had a cool house because she had two dogs, two cats, and three birds. Her parents were nice and she had a TV in her bedroom and her Barbies had the designer clothes.

Sara never really talked to me in school so the first time she invited me over was kind of surprising. She called me on my house phone and I was so excited because it was my first sleepover. I went to her house and we played all her games and played with all her toys. Well, she played with them and showed me them. I just sort of watched but, that was okay because she had invited me over and we were friends now.

At school on Monday I excitedly went to talk to her but, she acted weird. She didn’t want to talk to me. She just frowned at me when I said hello and moved to a different table. She probably wasn’t feeling good.

The pattern continued, she would invite me over, I would watch her play with her toys, and then I would be ignored at school. Until one night, I came over and Katie got a phone call in the middle of showing me her new Barbie house. She told me I had to leave. When I asked why, she told me that her real friends were coming over now.

I called my mom to pick me up and said I didn’t feel good. I didn’t go to Sara’s anymore.

Sara was my friend because she was bored and needed someone to show off to. She was my friend because it was convenient for her.

In middle school, the boy who lived down the street from me, Nick*, threw a Halloween party. Middle school was a time of budding romances and silly rivalries. The week leading up to the party, he passed out invitations to everyone in our class and all the people in our homeroom. Except for me. I pretended not to notice. I was hurt because I had known him since Kindergarten. I had always invited him to my birthday parties. He was always nice to me in the hallway and I talked to him fairly regularly. Didn’t that make us friends?

The day before the party he told me in person that I could come if I really wanted to and if I brought something to eat. He glared at me when he said it. I smiled and said I would be there. He stormed off to the cafeteria and I was beaming.

That night, my mom made a bunch of spidery cookies and brownies. I excitedly walked over to Nick’s house where a campfire was going in the back. I carried the food to the back of the house where a large group of kids were. I set the food down and the kids meandered over to the plates. It was the only food there. They were empty within a few minutes.

I sat down in a chair just outside the big circle of kids and listened to their conversations. I tried to interject but, someone always talked over me. I thought they couldn’t hear so I spoke louder. I girl with flat blonde hair turned around and looked at me. “You are only here because we wanted cookies and Nick’s mom MADE him invite you. Just go home.”

I looked over at Nick who seemed to nod in agreement. I slumped and picked up my empty plates and walked back home. I told my mom the party wasn’t very fun but, everyone liked the cookies.

The pattern continued several times, each one changing just a little bit from the last. People would always come to me when they wanted to do something but, couldn’t afford it. Or if they needed help with their homework. Or if they needed someone to brag to. My parents always took my friends and I places when I asked to go. They were so supportive of me having friends that this sad cycle would continue.

But what does this have to do with lost puppies?

These people were lost puppies. Just like a real lost puppy needs a home, these people needed entertainment, money, or help and I was the easiest person to turn to because I helped them every time. Puppies take time, energy, and love. I gave those out freely to anyone who needed it but, unlike the loving devotion of a dog, these people didn’t return it. They took it and left off to find the next victim.

I grew up. The lost puppies got smarter. They treated me nicer because they figured out that if they were nicer to me, I helped them more. But it was always a distant niceness. It was a hello in the hallways, a message or two on Facebook. A place to sit at lunchtime. But it was still distant. I wasn’t invited out on shopping trips or out to dinners or to people’s houses. I ate it up. I was so lonely that this was a good friendship to me.

It even got to a point where I was paying for full dinners, tickets to amusement parks, conventions, and even for entire vacations and I didn’t bat an eye. Because someone was spending time with me. Someone was talking to me. Someone liked me. Someone was my friend.

I drove for hours just to comfort someone who couldn’t be bothered to ask ‘how are you?’ I spent a holiday weekend with someone in the hospital so they wouldn’t be alone and they can’t even say hello anymore. I tried so hard to be a good friend. I moved plans, skipped classes, almost ANYTHING to just be there for someone. I was trying to be the friend that I never had. The friend I wanted so badly but could never find. I tried so hard and it always came crashing down around me.

These lost puppy friendships always came to an end, rather abruptly. Making plans that were canceled at the last minute, a sudden never answering of calls or texts, these were always the signs that they were done with me. I would grow desperate, I would do anything to keep them talking to me. Just anything but, they were done. The puppy got the loving home it wanted, it grew up and found somewhere else to go.

Are these lost puppies bad people? I don’t think so. Sometimes, I think they are just selfish. They don’t realize the impact they have on the people around them. They find a new and shiny toy and chase after it, with no regard to those they leave behind, waiting anxiously.

Is this my fault? Maybe. I should have been more selective, less willing to help and to pay for things. I should have realized it sooner. But, for someone who doesn’t have a lot of friends, good ones or otherwise. You don’t question it when someone wants to talk to you. When someone wants to go to dinners with you. You just go.

In the end, my parents were right. I just wish I had listened sooner.