Becka (miss_rynn) wrote,

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Voice from the past

Ever had one of those completely inexplicable, earth-shattering, mind-blowing moments, where the world suddenly stops and you can't help but be stunned into stillness and silence. I had to read the sentence in question over and over again.

I just got an email from an old friend of mine that, due to my famous lack of ability to keep in contact with people (because I suck at phoning, emailing, and writing to people), I lost contact with. A friend of mine nick-named Harry, who I met at school in an odd chain of events. I liked him more than most, I think, because we were rather similar in our views on the world and fiction, and other things. It's my fault we didn't keep in contact, and for that I am sorry. Like so many people I held dear to me, I never really expected to hear from him again.

But I had an email waiting for me this morning.

The years come flooding back, the things that have happened in the past, the things that didn't happen in the past. Bitter-sweet if the best term for it, an accurate description of my life between the ages of 15 and 20. I havn't been the fairest person in the past, and I always assumed that a lot of people (who I won't name, because that would be cruel and unfair) resented me and were hurt deeply by me because of the way I was.

But to have someone who was a very close friend tell me that no matter what kind of difficulties, for want of a better word, still thinks I'm okay is just... indescribable. I have never taken compliments well, because I don't belive them. But to have and old, dear friend tell me out of the blue that there is nothing to forgive (when all along I thought that I could never even hope for forgiveness for my percieved hurtful behaviour) just blows my mind.

Stunned, pins and needles, heart in my mouth.

I mean, thinking back to those times (when I was a 'bad girl', as I describe it) I was fully aware of what I was doing, but I can't see now how I managed to cope with it. By the same token, I long to be back in that time of childish abandon, of revelling in emotions of all sorts and invoking them in those around me just to see what it was like and what would happen. There was no real maliciousness, just wonder and curiosity.

And a simpler time where you could know something just by looking at someone, but you pretended you didn't know, and they pretended they didn't feel it.

Suddenly, I'm 16 again, and boys are an unknowable mystery...
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