I saw someone who reminded me of
you yesterday.
Walking back to office from a lunch break, I saw this little girl dressed in her dark navy blue school uniform. Knee-length skirt, collared white shirt with a school sweater, emblazoned with her school logo. Closed-toed black shoes and knee-high socks, I think. She looked prim and proper.
Her hair was slightly longer than shoulder length, straight (possibly rebonded-awhile-ago-kinda-straight). Her glasses? It was black-rimmed, rectangular, plastic.
She didn't look Chinese but definitely Asian. Dark skinned.
She was sitting by some steps, eating a snack, while watching over her two younger sisters - who were playing by the side. Her sisters were probably aged five? She was probably 12.
When I stopped at my heels to turn my head around to look at her again, she was reprimanding her sisters who didn't look after their water bottles properly. After a light warning, she let them off. They promptly went back to their little spot to play while she went back to finish up her snack.
In a split second, it gave me that warm, nice feeling.
The feeling that well, something I felt before when we knew each other, when we trusted each other, when we laughed at the funniest moments, held each other during the most pressing moments of work dynamics. The feeling that was comfort to the soul.
But that feeling left as quickly as it came.
Like a cold wind that suddenly swept by and took that touch of warmth away. With that sense of density drop.
Because reality hit me at the back of the head. Reminding me that, that was not the case anymore.
We just have a growing distance between. And it just gets further and further away.
While time and distance are tangible measurable lengths, its nature is subjective. Time to get over what has happened? It can take forever, if it drags. The space between us? It can get even more, if it stretches.
Then the wave of resignation drained that memory I had of you.
How can I tell you all this? You might not really hear it out either, I think.
Or well, if you do read this. Know that you meant something to me; nothing was ever intentionally done.
At least, I hope, now you know, that the image of you has not changed.
I wish you well.
Labels: insides, nostalgia, school
