I spoke to Jimmy the other day. It’s amazing how it was still the same every time we talked. I guess that’s what you mean by true friends. Distance or time doesn’t change anything about us. There is only one thing that has changed — we have grown a little bit. The last time I met Jimmy was 2 years ago. We were holding hands and giving hugs. We were saying goodbye as I was about to leave Vietnam once again. That summer, we only got a day together but it was a day I would never forget. Either Jimmy or that chilly night. Or anything about us.
Sometimes I wonder why people don’t miss things I miss. I bet to Jimmy little things like that hardly mean anything. To most people, nothing means anything. Yet, it’s something in my nature to recollect the past. From the most trivial moments. I might not say it but I remember it. I think about it occasionally. I ask myself silly questions. I wonder and wonder.
I cried when I was on Skype with Jimmy. I hate that he is so far away just like the rest of my bestfriends. I’m not the type that is easy to make new friends. I just can’t pretend that I like someone for the sake of socializing. And god knows it’s incredibly hard for me to find someone I truly get on with. What is it about me? My type of people. I could count on one hand. Yet, they are somewhere on the other half of the globe. It’s just tough. I don’t really have friends. I have Jimmy. Jimmy isn’t here.
Jimmy called us losers. He thought that he was a loser for not knowing what to do, not having anything to do, not being independent. I cried and I laughed. How beautiful it is. We are a bunch of losers. Isn’t it just, you know, young? The day we stop being losers, we will look at life in a different way. We will forget about dreams. We will not need each other to say that things will be alright even if they never do. We will stop risking and giving everything we’ve got because we will have something to lose. We will, well, stop being this young, silly, and young.
So, Jimmy, what’s so bad about being this loser? Being twenty. Being a little lost, a little sad as if the sky was falling. Blaming every little thing on myself. Feeling like I could do more, be something amazing. Just because I’m still young.
I don’t know where to go. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what’s important. I don’t do what’s important. Just because I’m young. And silly.
And because life goes wrong even when I do nothing wrong.
What’s so bad about it all?