年小时候

Someone my year asked me today,
so honestly and seriously sincerely.
"When are you giving your talk?"
I'm like. "HUH? I thought these overseas talks were for like.. the younger generations."
And she simply replied how it'll be interesting to hear my experience.
That moment, i was left stunned, with a little faith in Humanity
and that in the somewhat fake superficial world we live in perhaps do have acquaintances who are simply
just genuine.

What gripped me to jog up to her to ask if she needed a ride back home was also yet another realisation that I couldn't easily be the bitchy, attitude-bursting person I wanted to be. That perhaps its really nature not nurture.

.

Anyway, does anyone think that the length of your hair also attributes to your outward portrayal of confidence for your sensuality? I want my long hair back.

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Sometime a long time ago, I had this best friend in the world. I was the not so smart, ugly, tanned and short girl next to this smart, tall, big eyed sweet smile whom everyone loved. I was good friends to both puppy-eyed guys (who still have this standing "rivalry"), was the one who dishes tidbits of this best friend of mine and try to match-made all the time. The one both those guys always turn to to ask for what colour she likes, and what flowers they should get her.

She went on being really successful, intelligence earned her a place distinguished from neighbourhood schools the rest of us went. For her twelfth birthday I remember, the clique squirmed and squeezed sixty to buy her a disc man. (Note: Even a red ten-dollar bill was a huge thing to us then.) I vaguely remember amongst all, I was closest to her somehow. Even as she was better with her technique and played in the more challenging First Clarinet section while I was in Second along with the rest (i think...)

So secondary school years separates us, I heard stories of my former best friend being so popular, the boys' schools knew of her. And that acquaintances I met from her various institution, over the years, have all heard of her, knew of her and all somehow had this tinge of envy and admiration in the same breath when speaking of her.

One fine day she smsed me saying she chanced upon old momentos that were significant in our friendship. And that we ought to meet up soon. The point is. Tomorrow I'd be meeting her. A first for a very long time. Simply put, my inferior complex is crawling up to me as I lay quietly absorbing the night essence. I wonder, I think, I worry so much. I really want to rekindle the friendship, and love her in a way I used to so innocently moons ago. Not pretentiously equate achievements in a catty competitive pettiness as I try to match up to my immaculate friend.

How? It seems I only have my confidence and belief in myself when I know and undervalue the "competition".
I am such a loser.