Chapter 4: Chapter 4 - Words of Memories
When I was a child my cousin took me to see Sho, a rhythm gamer who always play different kinds of rhythm games. I think she had a crush on him. It was the same year he made it to the roster of some good team on his game, which is, my cousin always told me about. She used to write him a letter and hand me over to gave it to him, I don't really know why she would not give the letter by herself that time, but later on I realized how hard it is to show such dedication just to give him that letter. All of this shows a very clear perspicuous to me when I hit seventeen.
And so when I hit twelve, I started to go to school again. This time, not because i have to, but because I want to. The thing where school seems to be a hindrance to me turned out into a close friend that I always wanted to go with. My old friend, back then where we always team up to a popular FPS game before once told me;
"I hate school, because it has memories. You don't make it, you create it."
I don't really get his point when he said those words to me, probably because I was still eleven and he's already on his 20's, the only thing that we can make out us two is only the video games that we both get addicted with. He really is one of my best partner in my one year hiatus of being a high school student, he always told me how good getting home schooled is, in dawn we always play basketball, where in, he used to be my tutor that time. He was good, specially when holding the ball, as if it is smoothing out along with his body or as if the ball is one of his friend that he can go get along with.
Later I became a player as well. My mother bought me a basket ball and I practiced playing together with him, and later on, probably, a replica of his dribbling style. The day we left our boarding house made me realize those old lines of him, I don't really get it, but he made me capture all of it;
"So you're going back huh."
"Yeah, I wonder what's up with Mom and Dad getting along again."
"They always fight right? does it bother you?"
"Of course I do, everytime they pick up some back to back bad mouthing early in the morning, those argument that starts with a little things comes out into a big vulgar insults. I hate it! I wish he'd never came back."
He laughed at me...
"Well I guess we are look alike..."
"Look alike? does your Mother and Father also divorced too?"
"Nah, unlike you, they dont get divorced. Probably because they still love each other, or probably because they can't, because I am here, the thing called "responsibility"."
"Responsibility? but you're in your 20's. I mean, you are already twenty, right?"
"Yeah, I know right? it's ridiculous, but you know, sometimes life give you some butt hurts to remember with."
"What do you mean?"
"Remember the thing I told you about memories?"
"Yeah..."
"You know, I hate it... really, I hate it— but my parents showed me that sometimes that word is still daring, and that, I can't even appreciate, even until now, when I'm already on my 20's."
"You sure good at sugarcoating your words huh."
He laughed at me again...
"You think so? well I guess my mother and father couldn't do it after all... because they still love their memories, and those memories keeps on hitting their tiny lights of love to each other, glow out again."
"Then we are completely different..."
"Why?"
"If my parents still treasure their memories, why would they get divorced? I mean, they're not divorced, because it's our principle, but if you think of it, it's still the same."
"Im not telling you we are alike or something..."
"But you said it latel–"
"Im telling you about how memories comes back at you..."
"What?"
"Don't worry, you will know and realize it someday..."
At first I don't really understand every words he slipped out in his mouth that time, probably because the difference of how we think life is, where in fact, I have hard times to understand I guess. I mean, he's already on his 20's, and I'm still only on my 10's, but I'm sure he wanted to say something valuable back then, I know it was in there somewhere, but he couldn't manage to say it. We don't even say our goodbyes, because we know someday we will meet again... someday.
All of those words seems to be a pitch black for me to understand, but as I grew up, I started to understand those words of him, those lines of him. He doesn't hate school, he doesn't hate it at all, it's the memories that he didn't want to get burried in his heart. The fun, the pain, the fights, the arguments, those tiny little moments that we have, will turn out into memories. But those, were the only thing I don't agree with him. Even if it will bring pain to my heart with those memories I make, I'll accept it. Even if those memories that I create will bring me regret, I'll gladly take it.
He said "You don't make memories, you create it.", but i don't believe it. I am not making nor creating "my own" memories, it's all of us, memories are made because of the group of friends, and memories were created by your friends because you are on it too, you are part of their memories. That's what you called "memories", and even if I will feel happy, or ashamed, or regret those memories with them, as long as I can cherish it, I think I would be able to endure it.
Those lines that took me four years to think it up to when I was a child, made sense by him, and I won't forget him, because the day we fell apart made me realize those "memories" that he wanted to convey, his name is Renebe, and I won't forget that name. I won't forget him.
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