It's amazing what one little phrase can do

Today it's exactly three years since I lost a friend in time. That person, I call her a friend, for there are never too many of them. Back in the day I was awfully too shy to talk to people in school and so was she in some way, I think, but she came to talk with me anyway.

I think we were friends, for we had great time, deep conversations and funky inside stuff, like giggling at the teacher while he reddened for some quirky reason. But that was then and we were just teens among other teens in time. As you know, there's a pressure to be acknowledged by others, and that perhaps differed us.

I don't really remember how everything happened, but I think I didn't like it when she told somebody something I didn't want to be told, and as one thing led to another, we differed from each other. Sad, but we never again really talked about anything just because one little crack continued cracking until falling apart.

I grieved for such long, not just that I didn't know what to do, but the situation really confused me. I've personally never flattered anybody just because "I should" and I like it when things are spoken openly, not through gossiping; I also think it as an honour if someone trusts me their secrets and worries and therefore I could never spread confidential information forward. Well, then it happened to myself: a friend of mine spread a confidential information of mine. Of course I got really confused: how someone so kind could have told somebody a thing that should not have been told? I don't remember anymore what that thing really was, perhaps it wasn't really that confidential or perhaps it was; I don't know. I felt hurt inside anyway.

Though we differed and I was certainly sad, I chose to continue the journey anyway. Three years later I think I can understand why things went so back then, maybe she didn't mean to hurt and the whole thing was just a mistake. Perhaps I'll never know, so this is just guessing. And perhaps I should have had more sense and understanding myself back then. Perhaps.

Still, I could've never written any of my columns or other texts, nor even thought about a book project or working for a big newspaper at the age of 18 if a friend of mine back in the day had never called me a good writer. She may read this or she may not read this - I don't know. She's somewhere; probably doing fine and feeling good, I hope.

It's amazing what one little phrase can do, really. And what amazing people you can once meet on your journey.

I thank her.