Ten years ago, an English teacher gave us the following assigment: to write our own autobiographies in about a page.
Well, that was boring enough for me and I ended up writing something he would give me a B for but that I have carried with me since then.
I was 15.
Here goes:
Maya
I used to have this friend, and it's very strange how I can count the time and number the years on my fingers of when I last saw her. I could've never imagined back then that I'd be here, four years older and four years on my own. A lot has happened and I've been to new places and have also left those new places. I've ended back where it all started and to my surprise, life has continued. Changes have occured and there's little that has been constant. All I know is that it's the times between those changes that count, the time we spend inside the new experiences, for that time is most valuable.
Sometimes you're with the people you love, sometimes you're left empty. Not exactly empty, for there's always something that lives on in memory. And of course, there's always the new people. She told me that before she left, I would meet so many new people that I would live on. As always, she was right. New people have com, and enough time has gone by for them to leave...that's how it works.
She used to say a lot of things. She said once that I think too much. I thought a lot about what she said and realized I do think too much. I don't think it's a really bad thing, for it's who i am and thoughts are what we are made up of. The thing was that she knew me, and she was able to see what destroyed and blessed me better than anyone else. I miss the light she was able to shine and how it made me that much warmer.
She also said that in order to move forward we have to let go of the past. That's why she let go of me. It hurt a lot, but I was able to understand her. I know she would've liked to know, but I wasn't able to tell her. She didn't mean any harm out of it and reassured me that it was for the best. Actually, she didn't really say that, but I know she would've, if she wasn't so afraid to hurt me. People that love you don't ever want to hurt you. They do, but it's never intentional. That's one thing I learned from her without her telling me. If you love someone, you've got to learn to get over their faults and learn to take the wound as a sign of love. It's pretty confusing but I learned it well enough.
Friends stay in your heart in such a way that it's intoxicating. Sometimes it's a light sweeping of presence in our minds, but not so light to pass by unnoticed. The effect that memory has been changing ove ritme, for now it's easier to smile and laugh at some things we went through, or to think on the absence without breaking down. I have no idea where she is right now, or how life's been treating her. That's what hurts the most, not knowing. I miss her but I'd rather go through this now than to try to imagine what my life would've been like if fate had taken a very different turn four distant years ago.
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