C

When I was in first grade, I had a best friend. All proper little girls had one and I was no exception. I don't remember how we met or how we really became friends. I don't even know if she remembers me with the same affection that I feel whenever I am reminded of her. I just know that I considered her the best because the girls in our class hated me for some reason and she alone stuck by me. For a kid, that's something.

One thing I remember almost clearly is that day when we held a class election and the boys all voted that I be class president and only C gave me a vote from the girls' group. I didn't win that election of course, because the girls outnumbered the boys. I believe that she even held a shouting match with the girls outside the classroom after school hours, saying that I should have been a shoo-in for the position, if they weren't so idiotic and stubborn. Okay, so she didn't say idiotic and stubborn, exactly. I just like tweaking facts a bit sometimes.

I went to a different school in 2nd grade and we lost contact since then. It was strange but I still remembered her from time to time and told my other friends about her.

After my elementary graduation, my father told me that he ran into her mother and her mother said that C was enrolled in one of the premier art schools in the country. I was happy for her, sure, but I did not know then what an art school was or how different it was from a regular school or if going there would have any marked effect on her.

Years later, I became friends with someone who just so happened to be her schoolmate in highschool. So I asked about her, of course. I learned that instead of a crappy thesis, she wrote a book of recipes instead. The recipes were poems. What a novel idea, I remember thinking. What a creative person she turned out to be.

One of my favorite bloggers has a Facebook account and I included him in my friends list. In facebook, you can put in your relationship status and the name of the person who you're in a relationship with. I was really surprised when I saw that my favorite blogger's girlfriend was C. So I sent her an invite and a message, introducing myself. It's funny but she remembered me and I felt glad that she did. Inspite of the fact that we've lost contact for almost 20 years, I still figured in her mind, like snippets from an old childhood book do.

Memory is amazing, isn't it? It's the only thing that connects us from one time to another, bridging gaps and preserving what's left of the things we shed. And sometimes, when you feel as if you've forgotten or lost the important things, someone remembers and you revel in the fact that you fit somehow in that person's life. That at one point you counted, and most probably, were loved.