I was just like her.
I have glimpses of me laughing happily in the park and on the hills. Somewhere amidst green and sun, light dancing around me and it felt so natural, I didn’t think about it. Now, I do. It’s a good thing we have memory, it allows us to relive beauty which we did not grasp fully in the past. There’s gratitude in that.
There are so many memories of what came after. Gradually. First, as surprise – a bad one. Words of blame. You didn’t do this, you are not that good. I didn’t understand, I really was trying my best. So I tried harder. It gave me joy to try, and confidence. Whenever I made it, I felt triumphant. And then out of the blue: you are not good enough. Again. Little did I know at the time it was not me who they blamed, it was their own incapacity and lameness and lack of courage. So little by little, they crushed me. One here, another one there. I was giving in, inside, collapsing. I kept a face. Cynicism crept in. Anger bubbled. I got to be a mess inside.
Like a magnet, I had attracted shit for years. Got prizes on the outside, failed inside. Even now, people say I look sexy, exceptional, I pass as a succes. Nobody really knows how broken I am.
She was the first one to tell me, after many many years, “you are the most wonderful person in this entire world and I am so grateful God gave you to me and me to you.” She came to me in my darkest hour and, unwilling as I was, turned my world alight again. Do you know how happy she is? She radiates, all the time. Her laughter fills rooms and voids and plazas and all of my inside. Cyclical, isn’t it. What used to be inside me and now is outside, fills my inside with joy. Does that mean that I get another chance?She is me, in another time.
I pray to God she is much much happier.