26 July 2016
To Those Who Have Gone.
To those who have gone,
The last time I saw you, you were perched up in your little reading nook on the library staircase. This was an odd location to find you in during the waning minutes of the night, but the librarians cherished you as one of their own, and had let you in. Accommodating you was your blue bed comforter, which you had decided to haul five minutes before your mother's automated coffee machine sprung to life in the morning (5:43am) and your fuzzy monkey socks, gray due to age yet a memento you wouldn't dare throw out. The difference between our first and last encounters was that your stature was drained of all the youthfulness that you once carried.
There comes a time in everyone's life where we encounter friction brought between our own wants and society's demands. Words such as "more" and "perfect" slowly weave themselves through the crevices of our minds, meandering through our thoughts and actions. This battle of mentality is one we cannot evade. The fight becomes draining: the little things which you had once enjoyed creating now become the monsters that haunt you at night. You clung onto your thread, clawing ferociously at the monsters, and slowly, their loud piercing screams of pain were overpowered by your own.
Scars were visible on your cheekbones, and your eyes were streaked red from the hours of crying. You bundled up in the comforter as a ball, your socks sticking out, wiggling ever so slightly, as your cried, "I can't do this anymore." I sat there, hugging you, knowing that this was for the best-- saying goodbye does not hurt as much as watching you slowly desecrate into dust specks of who you used to be.
It has been years since I last saw you. You're still traveling around the world, scattering your essence in everything that you do: cycling around in Amsterdam, taking up a safari in southern Africa, visiting Disneyland in Shanghai. I-- no, we-- held on to you and enveloped you in our love for a long time. You said that you had to travel. You weren't leaving forever, you just needed some time to explore. I wonder what you are up to now. Did you lose your freckles? How was the volleyball season for you? Are you on Team Cap or Team Iron Man? Whatever the case may be, I hope that you are in a happier place than before.
Author's Note: This is an ode to those of who were previously a part of the old community blogging world. I stumbled upon a lot of my old friends' blogs last week, and a lot of them left for the same reasons, and as a member of the community for over three years, it's hard to see people come and go. We shouldn't forget them, but rather, hope that they're doing okay now, blogging or not.