My Unforgotten Memories

I was a troublemaker growing up, like many of my friends. It was fun to hang out with them and play together. At times we would play rough tag (tag but we ignored the two-finger touch rule and used our whole palms), engage in snowball fights, and splash each other with cold water at the beach. Those were the good old days. I still remember those times as the good times, no matter that we would always bruise ourselves, squeeze tomatoes out of their juices, or end up hurting ourselves badly. These times are what made them memorable and that’s what matters most.

My Unforgotten Days

I remember playing hopscotch, tag, hide-and-seek, and jump rope when I was little. I would make up silly nursery rhymes that didn’t even rhyme, and when they did, they made no sense. Always playing with friends, and always having fun. I long for those days to return and to become a child once more. Now my life is work, work, work, barely any vacation, and more work. I miss the good old days with no responsibilities, yet ironically no freedom. Those were the days.

My Unforgotten Friends

It was clear that they were never going to forgive me. I mean, I did leave them out of nowhere… unexpectedly. But there’s more I wanted to say that I never got to. I just want their forgiveness. I lay on the warm grass as I pondered these thoughts and stared into the clouds with a neutral expression.

“Huh. That cloud looks like one of those paper doll chains.” I realized.

I saw myself and my friends in the image of those dolls and shed a tear of relief. After a minute or two of admiration, the cloud began to break apart as an airplane cut through the clouds. My smile faded and I sat up to properly look down. I got up and went back inside to finish my homework.

My Unforgotten Dedication

No. It wasn’t going to end like this, not after all the hard work I dedicated to this. It can’t. It just can’t… It’s like I’m just born with bad luck. Bad luck that swarms me like a hive of bees hungry for pollen. That’s right, I’m the flower. I dropped my pencil and paper on the countertop, stared at the wall with a fixed expression, and didn’t blink once. I felt like crying, so I did. I ran upstairs in tears and scurried into my bedroom with snot dripping from my nose.

“It’s not fair!” I cried. “Why am I forsaken!? Why me? It’s not fair!”

I punched my pillow out of anger and continued to cry for a long time. There was no hope left for me – all of it died. It’s dead. There’s no more place for me because my identity is gone. I am no one. After a few more whines and tears, I cried myself to sleep face down.

The later sound of my mom pulling up into the driveway woke me from what I had hoped to be an eternal slumber. I lifted my face, disgusted at the fact that I had been resting on a snot-infested pillow. My eyes seemed dry, so I flipped the pillow upside-down and raced to the bathroom to clear my nose and wash my face. My homework had already been completed, so there was nothing much for me to do now. When I exited the bathroom, I almost tripped over my sports bag that was wide open on the floor. “What the-” I began.

I picked up the bag and dug in my hand to find my phone, wallet, shoes, and other belongings. This was my hard work right here. I set the shoes down on the floor with my medal and stared at them, though the shoes were quite sandy and wet. There was so much more I could’ve done, I thought to myself. But it has to end like this.

My tears fell onto the medal and shoes and I placed my hands ever so gently on them to treasure them. I opened my eyes and polished them with a handkerchief I retrieved from the nightstand. I returned them to the bag and set it at the top of the closet where they belonged. “There’s no use for these now,” I said, sniffling.

I closed the closet door and went back to bed, only this time, I was facing upward and didn’t fall asleep.

My Unforgotten Guilt

Sometimes I like to spill my emotions and feelings into words on paper. After that one night, I stayed up crying, I picked my head up from the pillow, tread my feet across the creaky floor, and made my way to the staircase.

“Where are you going so late? It’s a school night, so go back to bed!”

“Don’t worry, I’m only going to fetch some water real quick,” I lightly lied.

Once I entered the kitchen, I opened the fridge door to be welcomed by a chilling breeze and a full body of food and refreshments. I grabbed a bottle of water and swiftly closed the door. I rummaged through my backpack for a pencil and notebook. When I had collected those two items, I sat down, turned on the lights, and immediately dimmed them so no one would notice. I sipped some water from the bottle and began to write: 

It’s just a day like any other, right? Wrong. I feel so alone now that I left everyone, or did everyone leave me? I forget who I am anymore – my identity is gone in the wind. Everybody hates me for what I did, even though it wasn’t my fault. If it wasn’t my fault, why do I blame myself for what happened? 

The tears in my eyes had already begun to form. That signified it was time for me to stop and go to bed. I returned the bottle and went to sleep. I woke up unrested.

A couple days ago…

The Resolve in My Goodbye

As we walked, he could see the tears forming in my eyes, although it must have been hard to tell since it was raining. We walked the remainder of our little excursion without a sound as the rain poured on us. We stopped. He turned and faced me. “So tell me,” he started. “Why are you leaving?”

“Before I tell you, I want you to tell me why you think I’m leaving,” I replied, wiping away the teardrops.

“I don’t know,” he shot back. “That’s why I’m asking you.”

I blinked and proceeded to face him with a look of disbelief mixed with a frown, a slight eyebrow scrunch, and a tilted head. “Fine, then. I guess I’ll tell you, considering you’ve been extra patient, and you did as I had asked.”

Then there was a long pause. I looked down at my feet and the rain as it splashed on the floor with the roaring thunder in the background. I failed to form words as my mouth would just occasionally open and close, as if in an attempt to do so. It was then that my eyes began to water again. 

“Well? Are you going to say it?”

By the time he finally said something, my eyes had already turned pink from crying, but he couldn’t tell I was because of the rain. That is until I made eye contact with him when he could see my sad expression and bloodshot eyes. He then realized how excruciating it was for me to talk about it, as seen from his wider-than-usual eyes and the same slightly scrunched eyebrows as mine had been. I returned to face the floor. He rested his hand on my shoulder with a sincere but caring face. “Look, I’m your friend, and you’re mine too. You can tell me anything.”

That got my attention, and I made eye contact with him again, but this time with halfway-astonished eyes and a moderately opened mouth. I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand. Then I began, “Okay. Okay, okay, okay. You deserve to know the truth; I want you to know why more than anyone else. It’s because – well – I-.”

“You wh-?”

“It’s not my choice!”

Silence.

“I’d stay if it were up to me, but I can’t. I don’t care that I’m struggling, nor that I’m losing sleep! Right now, I don’t care about what’s more important in my life because I’m still just a kid who wants to have fun with his friends! I love being here, and I hate to leave so suddenly like this!”

I then started crying, not even trying to hide it. I slowly faced the ground as my sniffles introduced themselves. My eyes shut tight as the tears fell straight to the ground one at a time. I had been crying for a while now. Before I could even carry on, I felt a warm embrace interrupt me. I didn’t even open my eyes; I just retaliated as I continued to cry on the shoulder my chin rested upon. As he patted my back slowly, I squeezed him harder. Neither of us let go for another few seconds or so. When we backed up, I blinked back the forming tears and forced a smile.

“Thank you. I needed that.” I sniffed. 

“Don’t mention it.” He replied, with tears trickling down his cheeks and a smile as he fist-bumped my shoulder lightly.

I liberated myself from the teary eyes by wiping and preparing myself for the worst to come. I informed him of everything there was to know.

“Wow,” he began. “I never would’ve guessed you were going through all that. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I replied. “After all, I can’t help but think that I brought this upon myself. But that’s a story for another day.”

“I understand.”

“However, I’m not leaving unenlightened. I will say that having the opportunity to be with you guys and compete has been a blast. And now that I’m leaving, it made me realize something.” 

“What’s that?” He asked.

“I realized that we depend on words like ‘goodbye’ and ‘thank you.’ Without them, what will we say to express ourselves? What I mean is that we must embrace moments like these. They may seem sad, but there’s so much more than all this sadness and grief. I hope that when I have left, this pain will turn to warmth. Even though I thought that what we had would last forever and that our days painted themselves out together, there would always be obstacles. I never prepared myself for them, so I can only blame myself. And it’s so sad, too. Your words echoed: ‘I think you can do it;’ that motivated me to try, but I failed and let you down instead. I let everyone down. The same tears falling down my face are wishing to be strong for you. In a way, you can say that there’s resolve woven in my goodbye. But that’s not all – I want you to stay strong. It’s tough times like these that shape us to be the best we can be but can also destroy us at the sight of any weakness. So keep reaching until you find that distant future. Until then, you must keep living on with your head held high and the kindled flame in your heart ablaze. My story isn’t over yet, but yours has just begun. So keep marching and moving forward – don’t stop now.”

This time, it was his turn to cry instead. The rain had already cleared up as the sun shone through the clouds with a bursting, radiant smile. I saw a white car in the distance over his shoulder.

“It looks like your ride is here. I’ll leave now. Sayonara.”

I lightly fist-bumped his shoulder and walked away. I didn’t look back once, with a smile and a warm feeling in my heart.