I don’t want to start this blogging year with an emo entry but I really have got something emo to say. And I’ve got to say this now.
Even before I hit puberty, my friends have been emigrating — to Canada, to the US. That’s why back then, I developed some sort of hatred towards these two countries. I felt like, “North America is stealing my friends.”
Years passed, and I noticed that I’d been losing friends not just to Canada or the US but also to Australia, to the UK, to the Middle East. It’s as if all the other nations are conspiring to make my life miserable. I felt like being left behind. Left alone.
But then, as I grow older, I’m starting to realise that this is life. And that it’s not about me. It’s about them. That although the friendship you share is deeply treasured, your friendship is not all there is in the world. That no matter how much distance the world puts between you two, the value of that friendship does not change.
That people come and go. Just like that.
But it’s hard to accept this truth because when people come into our lives, we love them. We love them as though they will be with us all the time. We just don’t think about the moment they’re gonna have to leave. Because we never think they are gonna. Until they do.
Who could blame us? They are friends. We get used to the comfort of their presence.
That when they reach out, it’s hard not to hold their hands.
That when they speak, it’s hard not to listen.
That when it’s their turn to listen, it’s hard not to cry.
That when we need to cry, it’s hard not to be with them.
That when we are with them, it’s hard to leave.
And that when it’s their turn to leave, it’s just hard — so hard — to let go.