We were all born equal. We had equal chances of screwing up and equal chances of miraculously “making it big” and all of us dreamed of making it big.
We were happy growing up and talking about the future in which we were all amazing writers and presidents of the world or “made a difference” or clichedly “made people cry when we died.”
And here we are. Some of you did have these amazing stories of falling in love and getting so much by taking chances. Some of you did turn pretty one summer and with the prettiness came the sense of humour and the will to live. Some of you ditched the dreams and yet kept the big circle of friends. Some of you worked hard and got what you’d always wanted while Fate grew silent and morose.
I grew quieter and quieter as the one big leap I’d made caused me to fall flat on my face. The dreams which once hung around me like a halo were now all I had. They moved inward and melted with the fabric of my heart. I couldn’t see or think about anything connected to it anymore- but I felt that feverish glow emitted by it. I’d say “If only” or “After I do something amazing” and I’d be one with the clouds.
Dreaming can be dangerous. I didn’t have a plan anymore. I just waited patiently- waiting for the blur to fade and for both the worlds I was a part of to unite. It didn’t.
Verbally, stringing words together became a difficult task. I’d forgotten how to say what I wanted to say. Sometimes, I didn’t think there were words that could describe what I felt most of the time. I listened to music and clung to the stories I wrote. I lost all the fair weather friends while the ones who had always mattered did stay. But now we hung out in twos instead of hanging out in packs.
I was the girl who stared at her shoes when she walked. I was the girl who stared at you so intensely but looked away when you’d turn to meet her eyes. I was the girl who wasn’t always like that and you probably knew that as I was the girl you grew up with.
I heard about how you fell in love for the first time. I heard about how she put up with all the rumours and bitchery and how everything made her stronger. I was the one who kept track of all of your stories and built it up in my head. Sometimes, I write about it.