No one is you and that is your superpower.
Dear diary,
Something really weird, but also kind of crazy happened to me today. Let me start at the very beginning. I woke up in the morning with a small, but still there smile on my face. I just had a feeling that the day would be good and I was proved right when my phone pinged with a few messages. I was perplexed about who was texting me right in the morning and I saw that it was Charlotte.
Good morning!
I hope you have a good day :)
Oh wait, is this too early to be texting you?
Sorry if it is and sorry about...you know, everything. I know I already apologised and you said that you forgive me, but I still feel terrible so yeah...sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry to the power of infinity!
Also to maybe make up for being a terrible friend, I can treat you to coffee at the Roasted Bean at maybe 5? Oh, and you can totally refuse if you, uh don't really want to you know, meet up with me after everything I've put you through and stuff.
Her first few messages make a giggle burst out of me and I was so shocked. I don't remember the last time I laughed like that. I'm laughing again, so that must mean that I'm getting better right? The thought made me smile. The rest of her messages turned my smile a little sad but it was a smile nevertheless and the start of the day was truly good. How she managed to make me smile even now was a mystery I'd never be able to solve.
I spent the afternoon splashing colours on paper and expressing my feelings without words. I played music while I painted and without even realising it, I was dancing and singing along to the music. The power of music both scared and awed me at the same time. Music was magic. It could lift your spirits and make you want to suddenly dance and twirl when all you felt like doing was moping by yourself. It wrapped around you and carried you off to a different world where all your worldly problems disappear and it's just you and the magic of music. It takes you to a world of colour, of peace and of unexplained euphoria. The beauty of music is truly indescribable and maybe that's what makes it more beautiful. The uniqueness and mystery of music cannot be explained using words and so it is in a sense, infinite. It can be anything you want it to be and so it can be everything. Everything wonderful and terrible and yet somehow, beautiful.
The evening arrived with a flurry of excitement and fear. They were both fluttering away in my stomach battling with each other as I wove my way through the streets, almost racing to the cafe because I was running a little late. In my hands, I carried a few of my paintings that I'd done when I was...in a dark place. I had offhandedly mentioned them to Charlotte who had then demanded to see them. The wind was making the papers flutter a little and I cursed myself for bringing a small stylish bag that couldn't hold the papers without crushing them. My hair was cascading down my shoulders and back while the wind made it dance like puppets on strings.
I rearranged the papers in my hands so that they would not all flutter away with the wind. And then suddenly I crashed into something huge. I went tumbling backwards and I nearly lost my grip on my paintings. When I heard someone profusely apologising, I realised that I had crashed into someone, not something. I looked up at a guy extending his hand to me. I am ashamed to say that I gazed into his eyes for a few moments, mesmerised. His eyes were the colour of storm clouds, a beautiful grey that looked like they had indeed seen a storm. Something about the tortured sort of look in his eyes touched me deeply and I couldn't tear my gaze away.
"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" His smooth yet distressed voice broke me out of my reverie.
"Yes, I-" I grabbed his hand instead of finishing my sentence. His palm was warm and his grip was not too strong nor too weak, just sort of perfect. He pulled me up with ease and then his gaze strayed to the paintings in my hand.
He smiled a sad, yet beautiful smile as he said, "Duende."
"Huh?" I asked.
"It is a Spanish word. It means the mysterious power of art to deeply move a person," he said and that's when I noticed the papers clutched in his hand. They were...paintings too. They were also completely abstract, speaking a thousand different things in their strokes and the pain in them spoke to something deep within me. I stared up at him with wide eyes while he stared back with that same sad look in his eyes.
"I'm Kelvyn and you are?" he asked.
"Tia Jade-Garcia," I had said and felt like a fool for telling my full name.
"Beautiful," he said and somehow, the way he was looking at me made me think he wasn't referring to just my name. I kept staring up at him and it made me feel crazy fluttering bubbling sensations in my stomach. It made me nervous but this was a good kind of nervous. I felt like I'd say something completely embarrassing if I opened my mouth or maybe I'd even straight out start babbling so I just kept quiet.
"I see that you're in a hurry so I can give you my phone number if you want to maybe meet up some other time?" he said and I quietly handed over my phone.
I honestly don't even know what happened after that. A few minutes later I was in the cafe with Charlotte. For a second I'd think that I imagined it all and then I'd look in my phone and see his name in my contacts. Kelvyn. Even his name was spelt so beautifully.
"You look like you're on another planet," Charlotte said.
"Huh? Oh, it's just that- I uh- ran into this guy-" I started but was interrupted by Charlotte's squeal.
"Ohmagawd! Tell me everything!" she gushed.
After that, I told her everything that had happened and we just continued to talk. It felt like old times again, but don't worry I'm not relapsing into that I-want-my-old-life-back phase again. She was not the same Charlotte she was before and neither was I. We'd both changed and the dynamics of our relationship had changed too. But it was not a bad change. We'd both learned something out of all that had transpired and I think what we learned made us better people. So I finally understood that change is just that, change. It is not equivalent to something terrible and if you try to make the best of it, it can actually be a wonderful thing or at least a not-so-terrible thing.
Suddenly my life didn't seem so terrible anymore. I had a best friend and even a crush (maybe?). I didn't hate every aspect of my life. I'd finally made up with my dad and Theo. I know that my mother and brother are still...gone but if I dwell on the bad things I'll just be stuck in a continuous loop of despair and boy am I done with that. They are gone from this world but the love they left behind will always reside in our hearts and they'll continue to be alive through that. And I think that is good enough for me because I know they'd want me to be happy and that's all I want for them too.
I know that I'm not just going to become a cheery, bubbly girl from now, but I also know that I'm going to start trying. I'm going to try to be happy. I'll always be that quiet girl with scars on her and a million mysteries about what happened to her, but I can be that girl with a smile. I can be happy even if the things that have happened to me are nothing short of atrocious. I can choose what my happiness depends on, me or what happens to me. And I know that from now on I'll choose me. I'll always choose me because that is the one person I am stuck with for the rest of my life and I think I don't hate her anymore. I think I might actually like her. And maybe one day, I'll grow to love her.
Yours,
Tia.So this is the last chapter. After this, there'll be an epilogue and then this short story will be complete!
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