Atongla Rothrong
My very good friend, if you are reading this, it will be because I’ve admitted to you that I’ve fallen, that for long hours at a stretch I can’t stop thinking of you; images form and reshape themselves endlessly in my mind. It’s frightening yet it makes perfect sense. It’s frightening nevertheless.
It’s the audible track of your thoughts and outrageous warm laughter and compatible insights that pin me painlessly in place and it defy my comprehension. The last thing I ever expected was to find myself staring blankly at walls reviewing events long past, and the recent conversations. Studying it all to see why and how this has happened.
The truth of life, regardless of the self-protecting day to day commendatory we offer up to others is that, we all need and want very much to be loved and valued. It is a pain and a pleasure to be your friend. Do you remember the little stream where we use to go play SPLASH!!! Yes, I was the one who wanted to be the mermen (mermaid? No, never). I recall you giving up to my tantrums and while I was busy practicing my strokes, you had the nerve to hide behind the bush and hiss like the anaconda. Ha! That never scared me though as I’ am now.
But the stream now is almost dry, where you and I once gingerly crossed barefoot. The ancient wooden seats and wild-berry bushes, our peek-a-poo corner is deserted. The crumbling place moved me and summer; I thought you my friend were a part of it. You made me laugh, you made me cry and even after all these years of maturity, you make me pause to consider new thoughts. You have the selflessness to be extra complimentary. It could just be you know, that the reward for all the days survived isn’t an uneventful and serene old age, but the discovery of someone who likes the sound of your voice, the pleasurable warm inquisitiveness of eyes and hands and heart.
You could, you might throw out a barricade of words. The self protectiveness may, by now have grown stronger than your desire to be found lovable. In that event, I shall be defeated and destroyed utterly. Some pretty strong thoughts of dying I get sometimes when alone and it seems so unfair. Who’s going to hold your hand when some other girl breaks your heart? Or rather whom should I call out for when I need to understand the intricacies of a mens mind?
There are so many things I want to do for you. I want to write a book and dedicate it to you. I want to leave you a part of me- tell you how much I care, how much I cherish our friendship and how important you have been to me. I want to complete all the poems and lyrics I have in my mind- to print it in a gold edged book and I want to write other things in it too. I don’t know what exactly. Just little words of encouragement you’d need someday maybe but mostly a lot of love.
So, if the time comes when you win enough of your war to come out of your hiding maybe we can take that long trip together because of all the friends that I’ve had in my life you’re the only one that have seen me come undone, you’ve seen the vulnerable side of me where no one has been. I say the long trip because that’s what I really want, that is, if you really want it too. Or do you think the world would turn upside down if you loved me? I don’t know how long I’ll live but while I live let me love you as my friend and not as any other.
