Celluloid dream

It couldn’t have gotten any better. With me typing this as I am sipping a mug of hot cocoa, I feel pleased with where I am at present, but I often feel like I am being held back.

Usually, I’d be wishing to be in the office, making use of myself, or just lazing around. But this right here, is fine.

I have been contemplating to meet my childhood best friend for the longest time. It’s been close to a few months now that I always put my honest intention on hold. I managed to find her on Facebook months ago and for a few times, we have planned for a get-together.

Let me tell you this, I was extremely nervous upon sending her a message on the networking site but I was lucky that she (sort of) remembers me, if not much and she actually gave me her phone number.

Time has been very kind, however the negative thoughts in this train of thoughts that afloat profusely have me tied myself to deny my wanting.

Her name is Nurul Ain Jamlus, she was my first girl best friend. Oddly enough, I could still remember the way she used to tie her hair, her room, her parents, siblings, aunt and uncle. Or in short, almost everything about her during that time. I hope I don’t come across as a freak. I just happen to remember a lot of things when I was growing up. Having been a tomboy throughout the years of growing up, I never really had a lot of girl friends, they never liked me. Thus I loved her dearly, which made it harder to erase the memories.

She was this girl who was artistic, she was into Madonna when all of us were into Gil, and the Moffatts. Of course, she has changed throughout the years, but everyone change. Even so, her artistic trait remains intact, which is really wonderful. She has grown into a beautiful woman, and is getting married next year, InsyaAllah. I couldn’t have been happier for her. And her siblings, now they’ve grown into beautiful angels. I remember there were a few times when Ain would come up to me and cry, given the fact that she always had to give in to her youngest sister, Anis. Reminiscing back to the old days, comel je kan? Haha.

We went to the same primary and secondary school. But in the eve of 1998, my family and I had to move to Perlis since my father was up for a promotion. I enjoyed my time spent in the state full with good food and friendly people but the thought of starting over again made me dread awfully. I have never really been the type of person who would say hello first, I often have in mind that I don't need anyone. I had walls around me, which I don’t feel like sharing why at the moment.

So back to the story, we sort of lost contact until I moved back to Subang Jaya in 2002. I bumped into her a few times during high school but it was difficult for me. I have always been loud and reserved at the same time. It takes a lot of me to open up to people. I get questions like “Nad, we’re extremely close to each other, but why do I feel like I don’t know you? Like you’re always hiding something from the world?”

At school, there were many attempts in gracing her paths but I often stopped myself from doing so because of the pride and ego I have. I often feel like people never really remember me, while I find myself photocopying everyone’s names, faces, and memories so easily, it makes me scared and I feel like a freak.

It had been four years since we met but I am pretty sure that she doesn’t remember me bumping into her at school, which makes it nine years since we last met and said hello.

“Fuck, this freak still remembers where I live. Fucking hell, what a freak.”

You know, it’s these kinds of negative thoughts that always put my honest intention on hold. Perchance she had forgotten about me long ago. But I’m going to take my chance and try to strengthen the bond we had, I just need to be sincere. But why am I scared and nervous?

We’ll see how things go.

On a lighter note, Internet kita mmg paling laju dlm dunia. Malaysia yg sebenarnya came up with broadband dulu if people really want to know. We have the tallest building, the greatest rempits and definitely the most laju Internet of all. So tragic.

Regards,
Nadirah H. Rodzi