Whenever I’d lost something then, I used to tell myself to go back to the days before I even had it and pretend like I never had it. How I was completely fine without it, before I got it. I never realized how wrong I was to have reacted in that manner until I lost the single most important piece of my life, my Best Friend. I can never go back to the three years before I found him and pretend that I never had him. My life up until three years ago meant nothing. Rocky was the one who put it into perspective. But three years, way too short of a life for a nine-live being. How could you have used up all your nine lives in just three years? I’m in no stage of grief. I’m just grieving. I don’t know how to go about my life anymore. I weep at the sight of every corner of the house. Your favorite spots in particular. I miss you so much my heart hurts, Best Friend.
I used to only have great things to say about you. Beautiful words such as incandescent, becoming, and charming crossed my mind at the thought of you. Now I can only think of rather unfavorable terms like uncertain, inconsistent, and clueless. It saddens me to finally see the kind of person you’ve always been and not the person who was beautifully painted in my heart.
And that my friend, is the burden of the knowledge ― words that are constantly uttered by Tess to me throughout our lives, among many others being the chatterbox she’s always been. It all began when my mother regarded me as her “best friend” and started confiding in me about the affairs that were taking place within the family, our family. I was only 12 then. I felt sorta special being the only child in the family to be in the know about the happenings of the family, well at least until one particular debacle that involved both my mother and father took place around the same year I was denoted the “best friend”. That’s a story for another time. Anyway, the whole thing definitely changed me and I was haunted by it for a period of time. I was completely livid at how oblivious my siblings were about everything that occurred in our family and the fact that they were not burdened by the knowledge of anything. Throughout the years I realized that I was perpetually sought after to become everyone’s shoulder to cry on. As flattering and thoughtful it may have sounded, it was not. The burden of the knowledge did not only apply to the matters of the heart or the family, it involved the academics as well. I was not always a bright student growing up. I’d completely despised studying at some point of my life. That was until I learned that education would empower a person’s future and decided to open a book and get educated. I became good at the whole studying thing and had brought home pretty impressive results. Having known to be the kind of learner who would take the extra mile to do the extra reading, I became everyone’s point of reference. And that my friend, is the burden of the knowledge. The years passed by and I had carried on with my life pleasing people with my “talents” of listening and bearing secrets. As much of a “good listener” I am, so good that I would absorb everything like a sponge and occasionally would offer my take on the matter, I am not much of an open book myself. The thought of confiding into other people about the shitty happenings of my life aggravates me. I’d much prefer to pour my soul out in the form of writing. It was not long ago when I’d decided to finally open up about the things that had bothered me to my friends. It brought relief upon me, however the feeling was short-lived. Having evolved around the same time as the technology, I was in some ways pressured to conform to the society. While it is not a crime to keep up with the world, it can in some ways take a toll on you. From this time forth, I have decided to stop carrying the burden of the knowledge. I no longer have the desire to know and to be known.
He now exists
amongst the cells
in my hippocampus.
What if. What if we hadn’t met? What if we didn’t know of each other’s existence? What if we hadn’t shared? What if we hadn’t got to know each other? We wouldn’t have been wondering a lot. Wondering if the other person feels the same as you do. Wondering if maybe, all of this had no depth to begin with.
We wouldn’t have wasted so much energy and time taking a journey that never had a direction. Doing and saying things for the sake of doing and saying things. Feeling confused when we didn’t have to in the first place.
And what if we had met much later in our lives? Would things have turned out differently? Would things have been better? Would we have been in the know? In the know of what our feelings would be.
So much wondering has been done. And so many “we” have been used. Without realizing that I was the only one wondering. The only one asking questions. Wanting to know the answer. Wanting to be in the know. Wanting to stop the confusion. Just me. Not you. Because you’re already wondering about someone else.