I remember, several years back, she was considered sort of the outcast. Was never sure why, maybe she was just socially awkward, or just different from the rest of us, in some ways. What we perceived to be normal and “cool” (it was the days of typical teenage hormones & stereotypes, pardon the shallow depth of mindsets) just didn’t really include her. No one ever hated her, but she wasn’t the first to come to mind when it came to class gatherings or outings. Or even for lunch.
But I never told anyone how they were wrong. How we were wrong, to judge someone so quickly and so abruptly. I never told anyone, that discreetly, I admired her. I guess if I had told someone that, I would be categorised with her. Admitting that now, I’m thoroughly ashamed. I admired her faith, her will and her strength in herself. I wouldn’t be surprised if somehow she had guessed she was the black sheep but even if she did, that never stopped her from being who she truly was. From not molding herself to fit the twists and turns of everyone and everything else, that we have all unconsciously done so ourselves. She stood out proud; she never wavered. She was – and still is, I believe – an intelligent, eloquent human being who matured wise beyond her years, who just isn’t afraid to believe in something and keep believing, even if no one else does. She had dreams and she went for them, picking herself up each time she fell.
She was secure. I wanted that.
Recently I came across some details on where she’s currently working and spontaneously, something in me nagged to give her a call. A coffee session, or anything of the like. Apologize, even, if it goes to that extent.
It’s odd, how she’s not really that significant in my life & I do believe she’s probably forgotten me but yet I still keep the occasional tabs on her.