Thurs, Mar. 21
... Meeting Katie
I met her in grade 10, in the first few days of school, right before Labor Day, then coming back after the long weekend, asking if I knew her cousin. I did. And then, "Are you a Christian? Cool! So am I!"
We had every class together that semester, and became nearly inseparable. She was different from the rest of us, though, in some imperceptible way that I never really understood. She knew, even at 15, what she wanted, and how she was going to get there. The rest of us--myself included--were still stuck in that world of crushes, two-week boyfriends, and high school dramas.
We wrote notes back and forth during class; sometimes seven or eight in a day, each folded differently, in every note shape known to high school girls. Once, I got one from her folded as an origami paper crane. In English class, we would finger-spell messages to each other across the back of the room. She was always so much faster at reading my hands than I was hers.
She read the dictionary for fun, and her least favorite word was "cry." It was crossed out of her dictionary. She loved Yul Brynner, adored math, and sang classically and just about every other way it was possible to sing.
She thought philocophically, at a level that most of the rest of us 15- and 16-year-olds never even dreamed of. She strove to be the best at everything she did, and always berated herself when her marks were less than at least the best, if not perfect.
She missed the last week of school before Christmas because she was sick. It turned out that she had nodes on her throat, or something similar, and for the next several months, her voice was scratchy and slightly hoarse. It almost killed her; her dream was to sing, and when she couldn't sing, she didn't know what to do.
After that semester, we only ever had one class together, and our friendship kind of fell apart. It wasn't horrible, but it was never the same. We commiserated in drama 20/30 about working with Ms. Cummings, as the two music directors for "Sneaky Fitch," we sat in Religious Studies 25 and debated all kinds of significant life questions... but by then, she was on the other side of the room from me. She was with "The Philosophers" and I was in with the "Non-Philosophers." By then, they were her soulmates. She finished high school a semester early, and came back for grad, blowing past the rest of us on the dance floor with her amazing jive skills with her dad.
It was simply a brief moment in time that lasted for five months of an intense friendship that stretched me in some way. I sometimes wonder what happened to her. I wonder where she went after that. She seemed invincible, almost. A jill-of-all-trades. I now know that she hurt; more than she let on to the general public. I wonder how much, though. I wonder what would have happened if our friendship had been allowed to develop. I guess I'll never know.
That same few months was the start of another friendship; one that has lasted longer and been just as interesting. One with someone who had a much different, yet oh-so-similar, view of life. One that has been there ever since. It's interesting how a friendship can change so many little things. How two friendships beginning in such similar situations can take such different tracks. How those small things can change everything.
infinite || abyss
posted at 10:17 p.m.
