The creepy best friend, I am.

Cass and I met out today for the purpose of gathering all the letters we’ve written to each other! I brought an A5-size envelope full of the letters I received from her in the year 2010 ; when we used to write to one another for a period of 5 months and then stopped.

She brought 2 shoe boxes of it, literally sturdy, cardboard shoe boxes! They were filled with the letters, memo, well-wishes cards and little slips of paper we used to sneak into each other’s lockers. They were written by some of the childcare friends we hung out with and what I wrote to her. She kept all those for at least 9 years now, or more – since I entered childcare when I was 10 years old and I’m 19 now! She wrote to me plenty of stuff when we were in childcare, but I don’t know where they went after I left the place… and I didn’t keep them. I only started to keep the letters she wrote to me after both of us left.

We had a good laugh after reading all those. I thought I was that very sentimental friend to have written that 2 boxes full of sweet friendship notes to my best friend. For a week, I was very much looking forward to read what I have written to her when I was a kid (a week ago, Cass suggested this whole gathering-our-letters thing during our following meet-up). But it turns out differently.

How should I go about describing the type of friend I was to Cass? From what I expected myself to be a real sentimental buddy, I see myself reduced to being a possessive creep after I read the letters I wrote to her when we were both in childcare. I asked her whether she found me intrusive and creepy that time when she read those – she said “no, why would it be?”. I thought, “Why would it not be?”. At least 90% of the notes I wrote emphasized on us being best friends, reminding her of our friendship, that it will never, ever cease unless we die, the friendship pledges I recurring made with her, and that one sentence I remember, “I know you’ll always be my best friend right? Even when anyone persuades you not to.”.

And letters of apology as well – we had a serious conflict once and from what I’ve read, I deduced that I went overboard with being too intrusive and rude. I remember that particular time we fell out with one another, we brought up a cold war. To me, it was so long because anyone will be naturally holding expectations of the other party’s apology. I know I was wrong now, but… Eventually, I couldn’t stand it and that’s probably how the apology note came about.

I was, and am really lucky to have her as my friend. She gave me the chance to treat her as my bestest friend during my middle childhood – even when I was acting like an obsessive admirer who stalks her crush and then spams his mailbox with “love letters” every day. I don’t know whether at any point of time, or at least once, Cass did used to feel that those letters came quite uninvited in her locker. But she was really tolerant of my ways.

I wonder what she used to write to me – was it as creepy as my writing? I could cover my face with a bag after I read all that I’ve written. Did I not realized those are the creepy stuff I wrote, like how she probably didn’t realized it that time, until we all grow up and we learn how to distinguish between appropriately caring for someone and being too possessive of another? Maybe shouldn’t be probing too much about it. That’s what makes everything real. When you start to be conscious of your personal boundaries, you filter out what you can say and what you ought not to say to every individual you know, and then it gets not so real anymore.

But I don’t write creepy stuff to her now – from what I perceived which are not creepy. We have changed in some ways, but not all of them. The superficial ones – our choices of music have changed, including our favorite films, teevee shows and especially, celebrities I look up to. Even my handwriting and how I used to write have changed! But some of our aspirations haven’t change abit. I still want to travel the world and explore places. She still wants to go places and help people, do community work. I still want and hope to be the author – but maybe not for a book, but an occupation related to writing. She still wants to be the social worker which she tells me about in her letter.

After that, we went to watch “Blue Jasmine” – directed by Woody Allen. The last movie I watched, directed by him, was “Midnight in Paris”. I tried to watch “Manhattan”, or either “Annie Hall” I forgot, online but I couldn’t understand a thing. You can easily recognize his directed works the moment when the movie starts to play. The jazzy, Paris-esque, jolly guy dancing down the street – kind of music plays ; giving a very vintagey, arty feel to the film.

“Blue Jasmine” is a comedy-drama film, but the comedic effect didn’t come from dorkiness of the personae. In the film, we watched the story of a woman suffering from a mental disorder after a downfall. The ending: The woman remains the way she is, but after another struggle. Start out pitiful, ended pitiful. It’s a film which is more concentrated on sadness and madness than humor. There weren’t alot of locals who joined us in watching “Blue Jasmine”. There weren’t any kids and barely any teenagers / young adults we saw, even though it was a PG13 – rated film. I couldn’t get some of the occasional giggling during the screening. The film switched between scenes of different flashbacks and it ended quite abruptly. The audience didn’t appear displeased with the ending. I guess that’s quite typical of a Woody Allen film – he has his unique style of writing and directing, which sets him different from the other film-doers.


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