Every cycle of 365 days, I have cause to celebrate

 

Surrounded by new friends on the New Year, we each gave a toast

I toasted speaking up to improve my quiet self

 

I did not know what had happened

But those friends slowly stopped talking to me

I waited for a while, a torturous cycle of longing

The days went by, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, repeating again every Monday

It was over when my best friend refused to talk to me

 

Over the summer, I sent her

A picture and some keepsakes

An ode to our friendship

She replied in a letter

 

Although she never accused me of being a bad person

She made me feel like one

 

She “felt anxious and drained after being with [me]”

Considered me “toxic,”

My venom paralyzing her, unable to fight back, “incapable of voicing [her] disagreements”

Despite feeling like I was the snake, her words stung me

 

Without me, I suppose you are justified

No habeas corpus despite my birthright

Just locked in a cell of isolation

How could I defend myself when not present in court?

When not notified of the crime?

 

“After the second week passed and you didn’t do anything. You began noticing during the third week and I couldn’t help but wonder what you thought had happened.”

 

But... you refused to talk to me

I do not push hurt people

 

You end, “you are fine, I am fine, and that July is fine,”but you wrote “we were on the same page number in different books”

We’re still on different pages

 

Because I am not fine

I am not okay with you popping in my head before I go to sleep, making me rake my mind over what I had done, could have done, should have

Now what are we?

You thought we misunderstood each other, and it must be true

Because you didn’t know me and I never knew you

 

I felt like I had been here before, losing my friends before me, every cycle of school year

I thought I would end up with no close friends, would have to start anew next year

But I gained some before then.

It began by running, not toward, not away, but with them

 

My soccer friend down the street made sure I got out of the house

We ran and socialized

Which was made better with another boy

And then with another girl

We eventually slowed down and talked more because we agreed that “No wo... cough… man left behind”

 

Runners to walkers to chaperones of kids at the park, we continued to talk

And our cycle made boy fall for girl, a relationship started

                                                                                                                        

Now I got a job and tried hard to come to play

But one day, the air was flat, as if all the bubbles disappeared

We dropped people off until it was me and the boyfriend

And outside my house, my curiosity burst the sole bubble

I asked him what was going on between him and his girlfriend

 

His tone was relaxed despite the tension in the air

He was as chill as the night

But his face was moonlight, a misleading ray of sunshine

I could see through him before he told me they had broken up

 

I could tell there was more behind the shadow

But you can’t flash light upon a broken soul, leaving it exposed

So I coaxed out this hurt animal, never pushing

Until he revealed himself

 

Everything was meaningless, pointless

Every spare moment his thought turned to her

What he did, could have done, should have

Now what were they?

Fixed upon a fake past and a nonexistent future

His present was agony

 

We talked through this terrible curse until a tear appeared

Then, he was more alive than any of the undead

His feelings were solid, and yet, transmitted through me

In that moment, he was a particle of light

 

Feeling sad alone makes one feel dead

But sharing grief can often make one feel alive

And as he spoke, I never felt more alive

He became tangible, He became real despite being a ghost of his happy self

 

I gave him the only things I could, a hug and my empathy

I was hesitant to tell him my stories, but I chose to speak up about my personal life

I told him my story about losing my friends

And he in turn gave me a hug

 

We continued sharing our stories of sorrow

Each story divided the grief

Making magic as sadness turned to peace

 

My toast was the right one, as speaking up has forever changed me

My story and bonds are all stronger

 

I don’t celebrate cycles

But rather change and growth in myself and others

As well as the people who have stayed

Despite 365 days