PhotoL Eedgar Chaparro
Last year, I happened to communicate with one of my classmates in middle school. He was preoccupied with his courses for doctoral degree in chemistry, and we have not seen for a decade.
After hits of laughter, we decided to rendezvous at our old school, a perfect symbol of our bittersweet youth.
He was thin as always, wearing his not-so-handsome glasses, thus delivering much academia gesture. But he was taller and more mature than I remembered. Perhaps years of dedicated research had instilled him much equanimity and detachment.
Photo by Rex
He gestured at me, and we gleefully reciprocated each other with a smile.
With much to digest, he elaborated his direction and exchanged his doubts with my career.
Clouds were looming, as we strolled around the school. Occasionally, he would point at our former classrooms in different floors, reminiscing some funny anecdotes.
We were not quite close back then.
He was an avid knowledge seeker and had never ceased to explore the world with his curiosity. Nagging as he was, it was his relentless spirit for truth that inspired me to tackle problems.
The truth is, I had always beaten him in English, which I still boasts throughout my career.
Every time the results were announced, he would conceal his disappointment and insist me on enunciating all the logic behind the words, phrases, and sentences.
His sincerity and open-mindedness astonished me. Then I unconsciously put pen to paper and demonstrated my train of thought when it occurred to those challenges. He would thoroughly dance in his mind palace and keep inquiring me other grammatical structures.
That was how we built up mutual trust.
Our friendship had surpassed a decade and even though we sporadically chatted in social networks, we were still sanguine about the future.
Three years in middle school was more like a trial ground.
I was both a rebel and a pioneer.
I would fix my eyes on the blackboard and was eager to memorize the new concepts.
I would claim my duty to clean up the messes after the sweeping.
I would even dare to sit at the rear for the sake of others.
Sounds inspiring?
However, the submerged ego had surfaced once in a while. There were hundreds of mishaps and accidents that shaped my understanding of the world.
Days of regularity seemed so dull and demanding, so I would seek other ventures to fulfill my restless soul.
I would falsify my excuses for not attending the Mathematical Olympiad Training Courses at the weekends and sneak into the digital world for pleasures.
I would exert my energies into table tennis and basketball respectively at the noon, and then be obsessed with Prison Break.
For me, it was the consummate demonstration of the physical and mental conflicts.
Besides, I become infatuated with someone.
It was a crush.
She was a goddess after all. Comparing to my mediocrity in appearance and talent, she was quite gorgeous and perspicacious.
I could hardly remember when she caught my eyes and how I adored her.
Twelve years ago, all I ever longed for was earthly beauty, and she was the epitome of all. It was as simple as our memories.
We had not talked much, therefore, all I could recollect is my fake move to borrow money from her.
She always rode to school with some of her friends, and I was commuting in shuttle bus.
I somehow came up with a trick where I could have more time to talk to her:
After the final bell, I would rush to the front gate and inadvertently waited for her passing by.
I then fabricated myriads of excuses to ask her to drag me out of poverty.
Surprisingly, she would not hesitate to empty her pocket and stuffed some bills into my hands. I gladly accepted and promised to return in usury.
The fact was that the money she lent had not been consumed at all.
The next day, I would jump at the chance to reimburse her with more coins, pretending to be masculine and trustworthy.
This tactic lasted for several months and I was chuckling to myself for the clumsy grimace.
God knows if she had seen through the game. Hope she hadn’t forever.
After the incident, I continued to be reticent and never had the guts to speak for myself.
Inferiority trapped me into fantasies and ignorance bound me into blindness.
When the courses and examinations flooded upon our desks, I spoiled my fragile relationship with her.
Later, she and I parted our ways and went to different high school. All I could do wasto bury my thoughts and deal with my turmoil.
From her updates in social media, I had glimpsed her life in Australia and sometimes worshipped her rapid success. There were several times that I had the chance to see her, but I instantly rejected wishful thinking.
All my tricks were left to myself. Even if somebody knows, whoever cares?
Let bygones be bygones.
As for me, I had the greatest honor to meet my love of life in my sophomore year.
She was the apple of my eye, and I finally break the shackles to express my heart.
The past eight years was a chronicle of our mutual growth. The detailed story lies in another article, please feel free to enjoy the love story.
Photo by Rex
Somehow I woke up from my sweet dreams.
Cecilia sent me a message.
I hesitated for a moment, wondering how she found me.
Browsing her Wechat moments, I was totally lost in our golden years.
She was also one of my classmates in both middle and high school. However, we were cutting off like a lost kite.
One of the most memorable episode was that she openly listed me as her rival in the following academic ranking when our class was encouraged to take an oath for surpassing someone in overall scores.
At that time, she was just starting to accommodate the new school. I bet this unexpected challenge was more painstaking.
We had both move heaven and earth to improve our weaknesses.
The result turned to be disappointing because I lost the duel by a couple of points. Then I reluctantly devoured my defeat in front of the whole classroom, trekked down to the passage, and called her elder sister ever since.
Sounds naïve? Yes, it is, but It was just how we perceived and acted in those days.
Then we were comrades throughout the most fateful battle, or so it seemed to us.
After the College Entrance Examination, the fleeting moments were so hard to grasp that even it resurfaced, I had to squeeze the bits of memory to put together the whole story.
She was delighted to tell me that she was married three years ago and now has a beautiful little boy.
We chatted like old times, and I felt tremendously indebted to reconnect to the past because of her presence.
I was more than happy for her. However, it was a pity for me to miss her wedding ceremony.
It then dawned on me that youth is no longer our friend, but a shrine to pray.
During the four-day interval in my hometown at Chinese New Year, I had again rambled our schools with another friend.
Photo by Rex
Nothing is changed except for its surroundings and furnishings.
I have to say:
Believe it or not, life is a miracle because amazing happens.
Every soul, every episode, and every story are the predominant cornerstones of our life.
Life is also a circle where all that is meant to be there will always be there.
I have been so fortunate to share pieces of my life with you.
I pray and will always pray for you all.
I will end with the best line in The Shawshank Redemption：
Remember, Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things and no good thing ever dies.
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