The Past, The Future

Do you remember when you were little and your best friend told you she didn't want to be friends anymore? It hurts like something was nesting on your heart and had clawed its way into your soul. There is an childish elegance to the sadness that you assumed only existed for grown ups when they talk about grown up things. In the glorious contant of humanity, the existence of her will corrode and become a faded memory that you will only remember when you hurt again.

And then you will lose your dog, your best friend, your confidant. It will happen suddenly and you will be left with nothing but the hole in your heart of a lost companion who you assumed would be around forever. You will learn at that moment that nothing true or pure lasts forever. A part of your innocence will die as you cradle your companion for the last time. If only you had goldfish and parents who lied to you about him instead.

You will think the worst is over, playgrounds will become a little less magical, danger will become a little more promising. You will be painfully aware of your parents, their presence, their laws. You will recognise how much of a dictatorship you live in. Mom is never around, Dad is out at sea, trying to keep food on the table. They're busy, they don't have time, except to tell you what to do. Study, become a lawyer, a doctor, play more sports, join a club. It will be a feat beyond humanity if you even remember what the playground looks like when they are done with you.

Eventually, you will learn to become used to that life and the rebellion will set in its ways. Until you see him. He'll wear the wrong socks and always have a smudge of dirt across his face. His tooth is almost out and he shakes it in his gums to gross everyone out. Everyone but you. He will smile at you like you're the only person in the world and call you Dolce, because his mother is obsessed with the word. And then, when you share your secret hideout and only bar of chocolate with him, he will refuse to look at you again. But it will ache most when he takes your best friend, the one who doesn't even understand that he loves those socks because they were his father's gift to him, to your secret hideout.

You will watch them together and remember the special cigarettes your older brother hid behind the broken part of the cabinet, the ones which always put him in such a good mood. And when you light it and cough so much your eyes water, you will understand that it is your soul bleeding through them, because it doesn't know why it is being poisoned. But you will take a deep breath and try again. And again. And again...

I promise. The next one will make you feel better. Just try one more. Go on.

They say that children are so resilient.

I have always wondered why.