Feels Like Nothing Now | An Uneasy Process

A Facebook image post
A Facebook image post

“Have you experienced this?” asked the Facebook post.

Of course I have. Actually, I’m the poster boy for it! In my circle, not only did I make it obvious through my actions, I outright referred to him—not just with his name—but with the title of “best friend”. Strangely, I was the only one who did it; I could not recall an instance when he called me what I called him. Makes you kind of suspicious, doesn’t it?

My only objection to the meme is this: the second process isn’t as easy as the first.

In my case, I found befriending him to be easy. At that time—when he was heartbroken and seeking distraction, company, and something shiny and new—he could stay past midnight constantly talking to me. And he wouldn’t hesitate about going along with anything I planned, sane or otherwise. And because that was the situation then, he and I did a lot of stuff together. He and I went to strange museums, almost unheard of exhibits, foreign ships, crazy screenings, crowded theme parks, and provincial fiestas. He and I rode all the ferries and most of the trains in the metro in one day. He and I ate and drank so much at popular restaurants and swanky hotels that he and I went into food comas. He and I walked for miles and miles (no exaggeration!) just talking, drinking water, and eating crackers and bananas. He and I shared songs, photographs, anime and TV series, movies, CDs and DVDs, and books. And there is so much more that he and I did together.

So much happened in the last seven years that—if you ask him and me—you’d get two different sets of answers. Why? One forgets while the other remembers.

And that is the reason I can easily say that it isn’t easy to turn a best friend into a stranger. You don’t get rid of seven years worth of memories instantaneously or overnight. No one is that lucky! I imagine that not even a year could halve it. Memory is a big burden, specially for some people. And on some days, it’s a curse. Curse or no curse, you deal with the hand you’re dealt with as best as you could. Sometimes, you have confidence you’d win. Sometimes, you don’t. Worse, you lose. But after a devastating loss like this, you slowly become numb. Anything less than it feels like nothing now.

That is how things are now with him and me. He and I are not strangers who share the same memories. Memories are recalled. Likely, he doesn’t with his. Likely, I do with mine. He and I are two of the strangest strangers you’d come across—if you are that lucky.

(And this proved to be quite a writing exercise! If you noticed, there are two pronouns I deliberately did not use.)

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