To the one who first called me JEM

                One o’clock in the morning, I am still awake. I can’t sleep not just because of the hot weather condition, but because I was thinking about the friendship I once have had with you.

                Yes, I know it is my fault to depend on you. Yes, it is wrong to expect something from you: something that you really cannot give. It hurt me to know that you have turned me down several times, but it never taught me to give up hoping that one day, some time, you would give what I asked; you would be with me at last. It never happened though, and I know it would not!

                I got mad at you for turning me down. I showed you and I made you feel I am indeed angry with you. You were sorry, you said. I accepted your apologies, though I didn’t feel it. I accepted it for the very reason I just want to move on. I don’t want another negative vibe in my life that is filled with negative powers. You were sorry because I don’t know. Do you want our friendship be back? Are you trying to capture my trust again? These are the questions flying around the corners of my room.

                To tell you the truth, I feel guilty with letting our friendship sink in the middle of the dark blue sea. It is not wholly my fault. You have yours. I tried to seal the little hole we had, but you let it became bigger. The misunderstanding we had—that only us could settle—became the conflict we have WITH our loved ones. I blame you for sharing them our problem. I tried to hide it from my side so you could have an image white as snow, but you just let mine be stained. People kept on asking what happened on us; if we have problem or whatever. I have no other choice but to tell my loved ones the whole story. What’s their reaction? Of course, they got mad and disappointed with you. Inasmuch as I want to wash your image with them, I can’t. I can’t because I was hurt. I was hurt because you’re inept enough to tell the world what is happening with us.

                At the end of our last conversation, I tell you I can no longer consider you a friend. Yes, I mean it! With all the disappointments and all the discouragements you brought to my life, how could I consider you as one? It is my fault to call you a friend. It is my fault to choose you a buddy. It is my fault to consider you a best friend. It is my lament to consider you a brother. It is my biggest regret to consider you a twin brother. To cope with all these faults, I choose to drop you out of my list of friends.

                It is hard, though. But I believe it is just right! I treasure all the memories we have done, all the joys and the tears we have shared, the laughter and the cries, the journeys and the adventures. I will try to hide my tears so you won’t be asked what happened after we have talked. I gave you the only item we have both not to mess things around but to show I am ready to, somehow, walk the path alone.

                To you, who give the name “Jem” to me, thank you and good bye! 

WRITTEN: 22 April 2012, 1:05AM

Awakened Sentiment

Tuesday that was when this feeling of longing for a best friend is awaken by some unexpected occurrence.

I am a tutor of at least ten different people, not to mention the group tutees I handle. Every time my tutees undergo tutelage under my supervision, I see to it that we have to talk about something that is off the course,  neither to waste their time nor to be sycophantic but to at least give them time to rest from our discussion and comprehend what has been discussed, and to build a rapport with them on a personal basis. This what I believe: an effective teacher is someone who befriends his students. I just want them to be comfortable with me not just with regard to what they have to be tutored at.

One of my tutees reminds me of someone. I have been tutoring this boy from a prestigious school for, I think, about half a year now. He is in his first year of being a high school student. He is not my regular student since he only goes to our Center every time he needs help for a particular subject. I think we have met for ten times already. The last time he went was last Tuesday.

That day was, if I may consider it, is different. I have this regard of that would be our last chance to see each other, and my last time to be his tutor. I may be teaching in a school by next school year, which,in effect, will lessen my time to spend in the center. To console my being, I bought a bag-full of chocolate,and share it with my tutees that day. He was the first. So he has the chance to eat more chocolates than the other.

Moment came, he arrived at the center, seemingly tired and sleepy from the past exams he had earlier that day. I was once a student so I know exactly how it feels when exams and deadlines are constraining the time you have left. He said he doesn't feel like studying that time. We stopped for a while and chat. He shared stories about his school; about the person we know in common; about the pen he is using and his family's US trip; about how he watch films--from what he eats to what he watches; about almost everything, except love life. (I don't know why we have not talked about it yet. Maybe because he is too young for it. I don't know.)

What is weird is that I see my best friend in him--from the outward appearance to his inner being; from the way he tells stories to the way he mimics the characters; from the way he jokes to the way he giggles at it; from the way he smiles to the way he laughs--that day. The fragile bottle where I put loneliness and longing for my best friend was broken and torn into million pieces during our conversation. If I may say it, he has remanded me behind bars of missing him. I don't accuse him of it. It is just that the dying awareness of losing a friend for some uncertain reason suddenly regains its strength to reinstate me of self accusation.

This is not my tutee's fault, it was mine. I should have become stronger than my emotion since the incident ("misunderstanding" with my best friend) happened almost half a year now. Yes, I gained strength to at least forget what happened, and to at least take the thought of having a best friend out of my mind. But it has just happened the strength I gained lost at that very moment.

When we decided to go into business again, I held back my tongue from saying he reminds me of my best friend. At the back of my mind, I say I just missed him and I need to fight this feeling and kick it out of my mind. I won.

We continued with the same routine--study, then chat; eat chocolates and laugh--until the tutelage ended. We said our goodbyes, and reminded each other of our secret not to be retold. He left the center with his mom. He nodded and smiled at me, signalling me he enjoyed our tutelage. In return, I smiled and waved at him.

Later that day, I decided to regain strength to forget about the incident of losing my best friend. I should have not just forget it but take this out of my head for good, this time.
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