Random Surges.

I've been having strange dreams of late. Which is all the more strange because I usually don't dream unless I'm awake.

The first one, for example, involved me as a teacher in a post-war situation. Traces of fire, smoke billowing amidst the smell of iron and dilapidated buildings everywhere. A few random people I know were also present, but here we were acting like good friends, whereas in real life most of us don't even talk to each other. We were all teaching together in a small, unfinished enclosure made of four poorly constructed walls and a wooden roof; and at night, we all slept right there, huddled together in sleeping bags for warmth. I remember thinking how it was a blessing in disguise the way the war had brought us all together. Even amidst that torturous environment, I felt quite happy and comforted.

The second one was no less bizarre, although I suppose I could trace it back to surrendering my insomniac self to Grey's Anatomy reruns. (Yes. I was desperate.)
I was working somewhere, in a hospital or something. I'm not quite sure what my designation was, but I think I was in scrubs. There was another girl with me who I know from real life--she was a close acquaintance when we were children, and though we attended all the same institutions, we were never proper friends. Also, as far as I know, her ambitions stray far from medical school. But there she was in the dream, also in scrubs, giving me an impatient look as I hurriedly pulled on my converse.

I don't remember actually doing anything, just walking with her around the wherever-we-were. At the end of the dream--which was supposedly a day of accomplishments--said woman and I had a heart-to-heart, where she ended up giving me really good advice regarding something. Problem is, I have no idea what she said, or even what I asked.

This is why I prefer daydreaming to actual dreams. The way these minions make you feel still remains even once you've awakened. Now that I'm perceiving reality again, I can't help but think of this girl and wish I'd still been friends with her. I mean, we grew up together. We've been to each other's houses, carpooled, done assignments, even shared a few secrets and fights. I know the things she likes; music, TV shows, food, even, to an extent. I know the different faces she makes--the way she scrunches up her face when she's focused, the way she leans to one side when she's being sarcastic--do I sound creepy. Okay. Sorry.
But you get the point.

And yet, here we are, completely nonexistent in each other's worlds. (Besides Facebook newsfeeds, perhaps.)

Naturally, I searched her up on Facebook and looked at a picture or two of hers. Just to see how she was doing.
In one, her face was scrunched up the exact same way it used to be all those years ago when we'd play together. And it just hit me. How she's still, apparently, the same girl I knew. And that just made me feel so affectionate, for some reason.

But it also made me feel kinda sad. The fact that we could have accommodated ourselves in each others' worlds, but didn't, because we were too busy trying to find ourselves.

What's even sadder, though, is that I understand why things unfolded the way they did. We were destined to grow apart.

Has anyone else been through this?

New End...

I love how everyone is standing still. Faceted into the ground, they stare at the screen. Memories flash by, of people who will not be forgotten.

We've had our differences, we've had our cliques. But right now, our breaths resonate. A thousand eyes glisten, five hundred lips smile. Every lyric touches our hearts and we suddenly realize that two years have passed by.

Time seems standing still, and we're always all too lost in ourselves to move. And without knowing it, suddenly, we've moved on.

So many people, so many faces. So many fights, so many laughs. Which ones will I forget? Which ones will I remember?

All I can recall is rosy gold lights and the sparkle on my shoe. The smiles on our faces and the glowing hue.

If time persists, we shall move on. But someday, when I'm old and lying in a bed, suddenly, the night will come back to me. As vividly as though I was there.

And I shall smile and tell my granddaughter about my senior prom. About us. Our stories. For our stories are, after all, the only thing that really belong to us. A story is the most intimate relationship a person can have with another.

Thank you for the stories. Thank you for the love. Thank you for the memories. Every time I blinked, I said a prayer of gratitude. I know I took you all for granted at some point, but know that I realize how I lucky I am that our paths crossed. I may not speak much, but I love you all as much as one can love and more. You girls are the reason for my sanity, the reason for my growth. You are my pillars of stone, the only thing in the world I can really depend on, when the world is depending on me.

Come fall, we shall all move on and this time will be no more. New experiences will arise, new connections will be made. All I ask of you, then, is that you do not forget the girl who was once a part of your life. Keep her locked away, somewhere, in your heart. Like a memory box, to be opened and cherished later. But do not toss her out. She is yours forever. A gift from a friend.

And thus shall I treasure the pieces of yourselves you have given me. For all eternity.

The truth never set me free.

So I never said a word.

Because I love the people I profess to hate, and hate those I seem to love. Just to try and stay in control.

If it was just me, I would never lie. But they love the others, and they hate the others. And they have the ones I love, and they are the ones I love, and I hate them. But I love them too, because that's just how it's supposed to be.

Sometimes when I feel sick of myself, I convert myself into two people. One is raw, and the other is completely practical. I let them do the fighting.

Graduation is on the 16th;/17th. I've decided what sort of bhoot I'm going to look like. Just hope there are no embarrassing moments.

If I ever kept a secret, or let it out, it was only to save someone else. When it comes to me, if you look closely, there are no secrets. And that's why I'm so afraid.

I love my friends, though. They actually seem like they'll stick around.

It's kind of strange, looking at the pictures on my wall. I don't even speak to some of the girls in that picture anymore. And yet, there they are, smiling at me with made-up, glazed over eyes, every single morning.

I wish they hadn't drifted away from me. Because I'd loved them all at some point in my life.
But I suppose it was for the good of everyone.

I remember feeling rather lonely at last year's graduation--the one we threw the senior batch. I don't know why I was, despite being surrounded by 50+ of my friends--but I was.

I'm not lonely anymore. Sometimes I'm euphoric, sometimes I'm miserable. But I'm not lonely.

I love my friends so much. I don't know whether it's funny or sad that they will never realize just how much I mean that statement.