Day 17: Letter to Someone from My Childhood

Dear Joan (I forgot if this is actually your real name),

First of all, allow me to reintroduce myself. Remember December 15, 1993? You were the girl I asked for a dance during my birthday party in our Kindergarten class. I have to admit, I was just forced to dance then: one, I don’t really dance and two, I was just a budding woman hater then. I was about to cry then as I don’t really want to do that part, and Fat Gino (again, I forgot if this is the true name) was bullying me like hell once again. Then again among all the girls whom I could have chosen that day, I chose you.

And that dance was very memorable, as clear as the blue waters running deep in an unpolluted river.

Nonetheless, I became a steady woman hater throughout Grade School. Then again, I can’t help to think that you were sort of my crush (my first ever). It’s just a realization when my woman-hater instincts finally died down upon entering High School (where I began appreciating the feminine beauty). Upon some reflection, I’ve realized there was so much of me suppressing my feelings when I was young. There were happy memories and people I’ve decided to bury deep down  in my consciousness that they erupted with great terrifying force after almost a decade. Bad move of me right, I’ve given myself a life sentence by guaranteeing myself an early death.

Speaking of death, I’ve heard this news when I was second year High School that if I’m not mistaken spoke of you. I heard that you passed away already. It saddens me that you’re another person in my list of already-gone-batchmates. However what makes me gloomier is the fact (well if this news really involved you) that we’ll never bump into each other again, reintroduce ourselves, take a long time to remember each other, have a cup of coffee while we share each other’s lives and laughs, and finally anticipate another dinner as we part ways after a tiring day’s work.

Yet I know you are at peace already. I hope that when we meet again in the Afterlife, we can rekindle that dance again. Promise I’ll be a good dancer this time.

Cheers,
Troy

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