FRIEND

A friend I was supposed to be. I wanted to be there for you, just a speed dial away. But in reality, I was the one who needed you. I admired every aspect of you. Your shoulder-length dark hair framing your flawless round face, your small hips exuding a hint of shyness, and the way you threw your head back when you laughed, resembling a swan. You had to be my friend, the one who patched up the wounds on my face, wiped away my tears, and instilled in me the belief that I could escape from a house filled with nothing but sorrow. You helped me confront the shattered memories that led me to unconsciously touch my belly, recalling the time when I almost became a mother before he struck me with a stool. You filled my mind with visions of a brighter future. Your free spirit defied gravity, inspiring me to think beyond my circumstances and envision the impossible. Many misunderstood you, labeling you as arrogant, self-absorbed, and a know-it-all. I vehemently rejected their judgments. You dismissed their claims when they labeled me as a lost soul, a mere puppet in the grand scheme of things. I knew deep down that our bond was destined to be. I once read in a magazine that a friend in need is a friend indeed.

You found yourself a lover. I had never seen that glow in your eyes that made me look away when you talked about your love. It made your cheeks red, your feet wobble. When you insisted that I should meet him, I agreed. I came face to face with the person who left a scar on my left cheek. I still felt the pain when I tried to smile. Your hands were intertwined, you communicated with your eyes and completed each other’s sentences. My heart was in disbelief. When he denied knowing me, I had to object. He silenced me with a well-crafted speech of regret and a promise to change. I read in another a magazine that a friend should forgive and forget.

Did I feel jealousy when you stopped calling me every other minute? I understood that you needed to explore this new relationship and immerse yourself in its allure. It filled a void in your heart that casual hugs and laughter couldn’t. You became engrossed in the intimate conversations that brought you to life from within. My phone rang less frequently, from daily to weekly, monthly, and then rarely. Each time, you seemed rushed, always busy with cooking, grocery shopping, or picking up his suit. I feared growing tired of the casual promises to meet soon, which never materialized. Plans were canceled repeatedly, and we grew accustomed to it. I buried my fears and recalled reading that a true friend should be willing to let you go, knowing that if you return, it was meant to be.

The distance between us grew, and I decided to pursue knowledge in psychiatry to help others who had walked a similar path. As my exams approached, I immersed myself in my studies, rushing from one class to the next, devouring every page I could find, and sacrificing everything and everyone in my path. I reassured them that it would all be worth it once I was done, a small price to pay. On the day of my exam, I sat before a panel, my voice tense and hands trembling, but your words echoed in my mind, calming me. “No one can do it better than you.” I saw their approving nods, satisfied with my work or perhaps willing to overlook any mistakes. As I prepared to celebrate, I felt like a baby bouncing with joy because the world was at my feet. I knew you would be proud when you read in the magazine that a friend was making a positive impact on the community with her great work.

The joy in my heart compelled me to share with you. I must tell you how my blouse was almost drenched with sweat, how my feet could barely hold me, but your words were my strength. I needed to hear that voice once more. This time, I was determined not to take no for an answer. The phone rang four times, which seemed odd. The voice on the other end sounded hoarse, causing me to frown as I inquired about you. The voice informed me that you were peacefully kept in a closed box, that he had stabbed you in the belly when you spoke back to him, and that your voice wasn’t loud enough to call for help. I was told that I would have to find another way to communicate with you, a way that science has not yet discovered. I was torn apart, my heart pumping dark blood through my veins. I wanted to cut off my lips for not speaking up, to break my legs for not running faster to you, to plug my ears from hearing other voices that might make me forget yours. I found myself staring at a blank wall in a café, letting the steam from a hot mug of coffee burn away the tears in my eyes. I knew that soon I would read in a magazine that all your friends had been invited to see you for one last time. Rest assured, I will be there. I will hold your hand in mine. You will not make the journey alone, for a friend will be by your side in the present and beyond.