That world
When I was in the seventh grade
I met two people
Who would give me the memories
Of a lifetime.
Well, I guess
I didn’t really “meet” them.
I found them
In a landscape
That I had run away to
When I had nowhere else to go.
A place that I ran to
Because I wished I could be someone else, someone different.
Because while I seeked entertainment,
I seeked a place to belong.
Because I did everything I could
To leave the identity I had behind
And create a new one in that world.
I looked different in that world.
The chubby cheeks gone.
The proud belly, a six pack.
My body, redrawn.
I acted different in that world.
My fear turned to courage.
My actions in righteousness.
I sounded different in that world.
In that silent world,
Where nobody could do anything but grunt and yell
My unpleasant, monotone voice no longer distinguished me.
In that world I found them.
A boy who had been suspended
Because he had beaten up
another student.
A girl who I imagined
Would have been called a slut.
And me.
A lazy, unfit middle schooler
Who only enjoyed playing video games.
A band of misfits.
An unlikely trio.
A bunch of immature kids.
A group of friends.
That is what we were.
How strange.
How they could accept my immaturity
And that I could accept their background.
How time passed on
And I found that my time with them
Became just as enjoyable
As my time in the this world.
How I could sit down in a room
For two hours after I finished what I had to do
And do nothing but talk about life with someone
I had never really met.
Someone I had never really seen the face of.
Someone I had never really heard the voice of.
And yet, I wondered how something as quiet
As the text on a screen
Could speak so loudly,
So vividly,
So kindly, to me.
But one day,
We all left that world behind.
We went back to where we came from.
And we abandoned that brilliant world.
Because we knew, I knew.
That this world must be bad for me,
I was sure of it.
When I was in the ninth grade
I met someone again
Who would leave me with a story
That I would never forget.
I revisited that world once more.
And as I had returned,
I found that he was there too.
Like that time you saw your friend
At the same Costco as you.
A boy
Who was now out of school
But had taken up the difficult task
of taking on not only society
But depression,
The betrayal of his friends and parents,
The death of his closest friend.
And it was then that I realized
That what mattered most
Were not the grades I earned
Or the highscores I achieved.
But the people I met.
In both this world
And that world.
That wonderful world,
Where I spent hours procrastinating.
That world
That my parents tried to keep me from,
Because it was bad for me.
That world
That others told me was a waste of time,
Because there were better things to do in life.
That world
That people told me destroyed your social interactions.
Because it was filled with nerds and losers.
That world
Where I met some of the most wonderful people,
Despite their flaws and mistakes.
That world
Where you couldn’t be judged for the outside
Because the only thing that you could see
Was the inside.
That world
Where I was told to be careful
Of the people who lurked there.
That world
Where even if they gave me delusions,
I still fell in love with those illusions.
That world
Where I accepted my identity
My real identity,
And left behind the friends
Whom I had never really met.
Who I had never really seen.
Who I had never really heard.
Because even then,
I still look to that world sometimes.
Because I want to believe
That someday, perhaps I’ll meet them again.
