I never wrapped around the unchangeable truth that you were my friend, really. That first time I saw you, you had your frown face on and I could almost feel the distaste rolling off in waves. Months later you confessed to me over a cup of coffee that you didn’t like me that first day we met in school.
You are a stubborn person, you stuck to your intuition when it told you not to like somebody. I was the one who made you changed your mind, and for that I felt honoured. For having a sister although like two poles of a magnet, but nevertheless one whom could disseminate my glances even for a split second across the corridor.
I never celebrated birthdays with my family; sometimes because of that I mope around the entire day. Yet somehow every year, I found myself being dragged along on one of your crazed escapades. We sat alongside the river and ate ice cream as it melted into little liquid puddles; we talked cliff jumping and ocean diving although I wasn’t all that fond of heights and I hated swimming; we ordered an extra large matcha latte when that restaurant we went last year offered us a free drink on my birthday despite the fact that I had not a single matcha-loving bone in my body. It was crazed because I was never the adventurous type — I liked my routine and I stick to it.
Perhaps boring old routine was good because nothing good happens from out of the norm experiences. You made sure I knew that.
We paired perfectly like peanut butter to jam; although I don’t eat peanut butter and you never touched jam. But these two are essentially two different flavours and they do not belong to each other. Peanut butter may be eaten differently now, but I think it will miss its dear, beloved jam forever.
Peanut butter and jam together was a good choice though, right?
” The past did affect the present and the future, in ways you could see and a million ones you couldn’t. Time wasn’t a thing you could divide easily; there was no defined middle or beginning or end. I could pretend to leave the past behind, but it would not leave me. ” – Sarah Dessen, Just Listen