Snapshot 8 - Storytelling

There was a story I wanted to tell. It was the existential story of a girl who kept waiting. She spent almost ten years of her life suspended between craving for a future and clinging to the past. But when he died an existential, sudden and absurd death, suddenly none of it mattered. Rather than die with the answer, she would have to live with the unanswered question.

But I am not the same. I learned my answer. But I did not die. Or perhaps I did. Perhaps I had been dying the whole time -- and when it finally ended, it felt like death -- liberating.

If I were to continue the story, this is what I would tell you:

The girl vowed to never again trap herself in her own silence. She needed to distance herself from her past, and thus she packed her bags and flew to a country an ocean away. There, she was reborn. Her fashion style reshaped and solidified, giving her an edge of self-confidence. She met a group of friends who became her second family and treated her like a sister. She, who had always been reluctant to talk, would stay up at night with her "family members" talking about a million things she had never once shared with others.

Her family members all had their own stories. Elder Brother talked about the strained relationship between his parents, his mixed feelings towards his current girlfriend, and his lingering feelings towards his ex. Eldest Sister's previous two relationships had left her with the tendency to choose guys whom she thought liked her her more than she liked them -- precisely because she was afraid of getting hurt. One sister had suffered from a hemorrhage two years ago and had to undergo physical therapy to regain use of the right side of her body. The other sister's parents had separated when her father suddenly refused to go to work, leaving only her mother to support her and her sister. Younger Brother had undergone open heart surgery a year ago to fix the hole in his heart.

And what about the girl? Her parents were happily married. She was healthy and had never stayed in a hospital or visited the emergency room. She had never had a boyfriend. The only thing she could think of was how she had wasted her high school years standing still and waiting.

It's a pathetic story. Mais c'est l'histoire de ma vie.

You write your own story. That's what I've finally learned.