She was gone. I would probably never see her again and it had been my choice to let her go. I chose to let her go without me, to remain and do what was expected of me. To become Glinda the Good. I made the choice to become the one that everyone loves. It was the perfect choice, wasn't it? I was beautiful, charming, popular, loved…happy? Of course. Who wouldn't be happy with such a life? I had everything I'd ever wanted.

The constant cheering, the adoration: 'Glinda, we love you.' 'Glinda, let us thank you.' 'Glinda, you're perfect.' 'Glinda, let us bask in your glory and pretend to be your friends because being your friend makes us popular as well.'

Okay, so they never say that last, but I know they think it. Not one of my 'friends' really knows anything about me. Not one of them knows that I used to cry myself to sleep because I'd let the one real friend, the only real friend I'd ever have, leave without me. Not one of them knows that I regret that decision still, despite having all my dreams come true. Not one of them knows that the choice I'd made that day was the one that had changed me forever. And not for the better.