It's hard to decide where to start. At this point in time I am raging with anger when I think about the struggle in understanding adults; in particular one adult. She happens to be someone that used to be very close to me. She was like a good friend: someone I would hang out with to paint my nails or watch a movie, someone I could learn from, and someone I liked to talk to. Unfortunately, the linking between us would happen to be the factor that tore us apart. That linking factor would be my boyfriend. Yes, you may have guess it, that particular adult was my boyfriend's mom.

So how does a good friend become an enemy, especially when there has been no trouble or breaking up in the relationship that I have with my boyfriend? To be honest, I don't know, but I can tell you what I do know.

It all started in October, a few weeks after I had went over to her house, let's call her Jane for the sake of protecting her identity, because I had found out that my boyfriend had cheated on me. Now, my boyfriend and I worked through everything and quickly were back into the normal joking around and what-not. Keep in mind that my boyfriend and I lived together at that point in time so we still went home together that night, both upset, but things become okay very quickly.

Anyway, a few weeks had passed, perhaps two or three, and Jane was continuously calling and asking for my boyfriend. Eventually she had finally gotten a hold of him while I was in the bath one day. When I came out of the bath he was gone, only a note left behind to tell me where he was. I had thought nothing of it at the time, she was his mother after all, perhaps she just wanted to see him. Boy, was I wrong. It turns out, as I had later found out that evening that she had wanted to tell me boyfriend that he should leave me because I was "bringing him down."

Bringing him down? Are you kidding me? My boyfriend and I had a perfect relationship. We were always joking around and laughing together, playing video games as we teared up from our bravery (or stupidity) in eating super hot salsa on our chips, we were best friends. However, this is what it had come down to, and this is where my story begins.

For the next few months things were awkward. Every time we went over to visit his parents, Jane continued to be fake and act as if nothing was wrong, as if she hadn't said what she said that one night. I, in return, also acted as if I had no knowledge of the situation because I felt that it would lead

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