typing this out with the intention of remembering the conversations I’ve had over the past one week. conversations that leave me feeling very blessed to have met certain people in my life and conversations that have left me to ponder and question why things are the way things are.
the first conversation started off with the idle scrolling of my Facebook and then looking at the viral post of how a woman still chose to marry the man she loves even after he got into a car accident. this followed with the honest opinion of how ‘i’m not sure if i’ll be able to do that’ from my friend – and isn’t it so true – how viral videos such as this turn viral due to very touching nature of it and how people get awe-inspired by the sheer selflessness another human being can show. and it leads to think of why is it that such selflessness is so inspiring – isn’t it because such selflessness is rare and that ‘unconditional love’ is romanticized and a phrase easily thrown about but in actuality there is hardly a thing really such as unconditional love. so when we meet with such occurrences it jolts you (the viewer) to reflect and ponder and for a moment be inspired at how selfless someone else can be. but the thing is that viral videos are called viral videos for a reason. they spread like wildfire and flicker dimly within a matter of weeks. then the hype and inspiration is lost. we go about our everyday lives, living, being selfish, concerned with our well-being, the world is limited only because we let it be and then another video takes us by the fist. and the cycle repeats but generally,
nothing really ever changes.
then the first conversation went on to become a mutual sharing of fatal car accidents involving motorcyclists. which turned into both of us agreeing that car accidents are the worst kinds of accidents and also the worst way to die because of the grief that follows. then you stated how you thought that now was an okay age to die (not that you have a death wish) because you were still single and you haven’t started a family on your own. and then i found myself tearing because in my head i ran through the years and i thought of life without you. and then we took turns to cry. on a bus. with the construction workers taking turns to secretly turn their heads and stare at the two young adults taking turns to tear and then laugh about it, on a public transport no less. that was the night after many nights of not meeting and talking and leap frogging from topics to topics. that was the night – even if we had said many times before – that seals our friendship. you’ll be the person at all my major life events and i plan to be at every big and even minuscule events of yours.
the second conversation panned out in an unusual way with a person that i haven’t spoken properly to in years. i remember waking up and falling back to sleep and repeating this two steps more than four times before i finally decided to get out of bed, and then we started talking out exchange and i told you of how excited the idea of exchange is and how i really hope that i would be able to live that experience for myself. then somehow we moved onto university and God, and we shared our same perspectives of how when we grow older, we tend to make less friends. and by friends, we meant close friends. we wondered aloud and thought of how strange and yet how it all made sense: people gravitate towards those that they can click with, familiarity in personalities that you are familiar to and as such you shut yourself off – thinking and knowing what kind of friendships you want – and it is something that i knew (and am guilty of doing sometimes) but having a conversation about that just made it more apparent; of how judgemental i am as well and how very sad the whole thing is. i think that’s the beautiful thing about the innocence of children isn’t it.
the third conversation began after a few hours of measuring cups, sifting flour, weighing butter and waiting for batter to cool. tired shoulders and a comfortable couch. i don’t even remember how it started but i know the main parts: you shared with me your experience of God, church and cell because i asked. i shared with you how i was always intrigued at how you proudly proclaimed your faith and your blessings and as such that led me to always wonder exactly why and how did such faith come about. i don’t know how long we spoke. an hour and a half – which was more than enough time for the batter to cool – and it must have been one of the conversations that i have ever had so full of sincerity and just those kinds of conversations that makes you feel so at peace at how things are. after i left i remember texting you a long text of how grateful, thankful (and all the other synonyms) and blessed i was to have this friendship and how glad i was to have maintained it throughout these 4 years.
i started typing this post a month ago and finally got down to completing it. when i first started i remember how i wanted to document all my thoughts because i was just feeling so extremely thankful – and also because i didn’t want to forget these conversations – and again i feel like i am reliving these conversations by finally finishing up this post.
word count right now is 967 sometimes i really like the idea of being a writer