I get the feeling that this post might just be the most honest yet because I'm writing this in what I think is emotional instability; it's going to be highly mushy, but I promise myself that I won't delete it, because ever since this year, I've vowed to myself not to take back what I say. I don't want to get the sense that there are no consequences to the things I let people see and hear. I don't want to filter myself because I want to live a more open-hearted life. But that's out of point.

Here goes:

If you read my previous post (which you probably haven't because I only wrote it, like, three days ago?), you might remember this part where I mentioned about this Facebook group that my secondary school clique used to post in, and how no one uses it anymore. If you've known me for long enough, you'll know that this group of friends is close to the most important thing I have in my life. I wouldn't say this too often, because it's embarrassing, but what triggered me to do so is the fact that I feel safe admitting it.

The previous time I revisited the page, I only scanned through. Today, for some reason, I missed them - it doesn't make sense because I spent so much time with them nowadays, especially this weekend - so I went to read some of the posts. I realise how much things have changed, and how life had made us better people, at the expense of some sort of soul in what we had.

You know how I'm pretty open about letting people know I value this friendship? This is nothing compared to what we used to say to one another. There was a period of time when all of us had a blog each. They would write posts that would later on (aka now) bring tears to my eyes because it was about how important the friendship was to them. I quote one of them here: "Our relationship may seem normal but to me it is 100% magical."

And then as time passed, we cross boundaries in life. We went from lingering individuals to poly, where each of us went through a bunch of things that make us more mature people, and then we went on to internship, then to work, then to university or army. Each step of the way distanced us from the past. In the midst of it all, we got into fights, some of us got tired and many of us made mistakes. Things changed. Changes are not always bad, but in this case, they were.

We, who used to laugh at everything, grew up and jokes that used to be funny were no longer cracked. I remember we used to meet almost everyday. We would cycle, explore the new park together, buy stuff for one another, celebrate birthdays, bake cakes, make cards, and do all sorts of stupid things. We were ~ thee 9 mehmehs ~. That was our soul.

The best part of the whole thing was our immaturity. It was our inexperience and the fact that we didn't know better. Most of us didn't know what we want to do for our future, neither did we really understand how people outside our circle, our neighbourhood, our school, and our perceptions were like. At least for most of us. It was a journey. We explored. We learned. We had a metaphorical growing-up-quick crash course. That wasn't much. I wanted more and better, but I didn't know that what I had is magic.

I try to recreate that feeling in life, but I can't. I try to move on, but days like this get to me. I know. I need to get a grip, but sometimes it's not the sad memories that stun you - it's the good ones. This bunch of people is family to me, more so than anyone else emotionally. It makes me guilty to think like that, but that's the truth. It had always been the truth.

Labels: emo, mehmeh, reflection, reliving those days