Yesterday, I was sitting on the bus with the window down. We were on the highway. The air was cool and the wind was strong. In 7th grade, I was sitting on the bus with the window down. The wind from the windows blew my hair everywhere, but I didn’t mind. I was too busy staring out the window, at the distant trees and the belittling sky. The sky was a smoky gradient of reds, oranges, and yellows, with few clouds. As I sat there, enjoying the sights, I thought. And I thought. The cool wind was strong as I sat on the band bus, headed back to the school after another evening band concert.

Today, I stepped off the bus and immediately the smell of gasoline filled my nostrils. I remembered 3rd grade, shortly after the new school year. It was a new school, and I had just moved. I barely knew anyone there, but my parent’s friends had a son who was also Asian and went to the same school. So for the first few weeks, I went to his house once school ended. We would walk along the sidewalk by the carpool lane, down to the sidewalk by the bus lane. The smell of gasoline was always strong. As we walked along in silence, I felt obligated to say something. My companion sure wasn’t going to speak. He was always the silent type. 

“I hate the smell of gasoline”, I said, walking backwards ahead of him, looking back for a response. 

He grumbled something, then rudely said “Oh, really”.

In those few weeks, I realized that he didn’t like me much. To this day, I’m sure we hated each other when we first met. Up until middle school. We started talking, and he smiles. That surprised me the most. We would talk in class, and he would smile.

How does it end?

I can feel it slipping away, bit by bit. I dare not say it; I don’t want him to judge me. But just a week ago I was confident that he wouldn’t judge me, I was confident that I could fail in front of him and he wouldn’t judge me by silly mistakes. What I’m talking about is friendship. I hate losing friends. When you first meet, and you talk, it’s like starting a fire. A fire in the cold tundra, it beckons you closer, and the fire grows hotter and more lively. You enjoy it’s presence, it’s the light and the warmth in a world where everyone else seems unimportant and inconsequential. Of course, in the cold tundra, you wouldn’t think of leaving the fire because it’s necessary, something you absolutely need. The friendship feels that way for a time. How long?

Entropy governs the universe. All things must change and end. People change, and you find yourselves drifting apart. In some cases it’s because there’s someone else, and one person loses interest. In some cases it’s because you see how different you really are. And in some cases, you just lose interest. I could leave the list of reasons at that. But the reasons are never simple. Most of the time you have many different reasons for why a friendship ended.

I’ve been dreading it. I hoped, when it first started, when our conversations were exciting and time would fly when we talked, that it would last forever, that it would stay that way for a long time. But later, I realized that everything has to end. Did that make a difference? I’m pretty sure it would’ve happened anyway. The thought that this time was different was silly. It’s not like I’m different from everyone else out there. In spite of that, I truthfully thought that we connected, that we were too similar to drift apart. But we are drifting apart anyway. 

I hate how I feel. She’s my best friend. I don’t think I’m jealous, exactly. Just sad. Okay, maybe a little bit jealous. It’s my fault. I get too attached to people, I discuss my thoughts with people who will listen, and yes, he listened. Was that why I had hopes? He thought the same way I did. Thinks, d’arvit. We still think the same way. He also was willing to listen, listen while I talked about and questioned the world. He helped me realize things, and helped me let my thoughts out. Would I change the way I talked to him? No way. The laughter and thought was worth it.

We even had a conversation on friendships once. How people lost interest as time went on. I wonder if he remembers it, if he thinks about it now and then, because that’s what’s happening. He would never say it, of course. 

I don’t know what to do. Even though I’ve lost some amazing friendships in the past, I have no clue what to do at this point. Should I carry on? Should I just give up? When you know something’s futile, do you still try?

I think the time when I was most hopeful was when I was moving. It was also the time when I fully realized that it would end. We’re hundreds of miles apart. Did I really think that we could maintain our friendship? But I always thought that if two people tried, they could keep in touch forever. They also had to really want it. I don’t know anything anymore. I know that this friendship will end. Soon. Should I say something? Maybe. But whatever. Life goes on.

“This is the way the world ends,

This is the way the world ends,

This is the way the world ends,

Not with a bang but a whimper.”

T.S. Eliot