for amy

no, i didn't have her phone number.
no, i have no idea what she had been doing since graduating from lafollette.
no, we didn't talk. not really.
we weren't even facebook friends.

but yes, i have distinct memories of her sitting in science classes with me. i remember her dancing in Poms. i remember her being on Prom, or was it Homecoming court? i remember walking by her in the hallway, always with a group of friends, usually laughing. i remember her dark hair and her freckles and her cute clothes.
and then, i remember seeing her at The Studio-- where i practice yoga-- just a few short months ago. immediately i recognized and placed her: lafollette, one year younger, "popular." ugh. my first thought: ugh.
i hate it when i run into people i know here, especially people from high school. i told myself: avoid eye contact. don't worry anna, you are better at yoga than her. she must have only just started coming here. it's ok- don't let it get to you.
amy showed up again, a few more times. and one time i must have let loose of my plot to ensure we made no contact, because we were standing next to each other in the hallway after class. she was chatting with the guy who came with her. we walked toward the door, and i held it open for her. after a few moments, she said: did you go to lafollette? i feel like i recognize you. what year did you graduate? what's your name again? a sincere voice and interest emanating from her, i put on my smile and said: oh! yes, i did go to lafollette...and we talked for a minute or two making our way down the staircase and into the cool winter air. i honestly can't quite remember what else we said. maybe that it was nice to see each other? maybe we laughed at the randomness of seeing each other? maybe we said we'd see each other around, then? i think she asked me if i had graduated, but i can't quite remember what she said. i'm trying desperately, and i can't. but i can remember that i was shocked. my ego was a bit offended-- i was feeling a little ashamed. and i was thinking that wasn't so bad, anna. she even remembered you. she made it a point to say hello. but still a small part of me thought i had taken the correct "position." i had done no wrong in waiting for her to say hello- in being skeptical of her presence.

this morning i read that amy lost her battle with depression. all i can think about is that meeting, those moments, her bright, expectant face. and how many things about that picture just seem so wrong. and mortifying. i like to think of myself as a kind person. but this person-- that person-- who was too scared and insecure to think anything kind when i saw her again after so many years, that person is me, too. i may hate that part of me. but it is still there. and i know- i know- people with depression smile. i know that depression doesn't mean you are never "happy," but i also know that the mask of brightness that some exude is eerily real. she was going to yoga. and with a friend! she was, in fact, feeling so good that she reached out to someone who could not have been sending the most welcoming vibes her way. she was trying. she was doing so many things that one would say to do to pull oneself out of that devastatingly deep and encompassing hole. and maybe she was doing well for a while there. maybe she was never doing well, and just got so entirely exhausted from all the pretending. i don't know. and i will not know.

but this has rattled me in more ways than one. depression terrifies me. i want to call it the nastiest names i can think of. but also, i terrify me. the way i can make an offhand judgement and hold onto prejudice. i don't go to high school reunions and try to avoid most meetings of the sort. i have always told myself it's because everyone would be the same. maybe it's because i am the same. the same insecure little girl who walked around those halls, mostly scared, about what others thought about her, and probably what she thought about her, too.

all i know is that i feel small. so, so small. and in my memory, amy is a bright, bright light-- the rays of which were so strong that even her depression could not contain them.

all i know is that i am here. and she is not.

all i know is that i always loved the quote "be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." (plato)

all i know is that i seem to have learned to whom i choose to apply that quote, and to whom i deem unworthy of it.

all i know is i don't want to be like this.

no, i didn't have her phone number.
no, i have no idea what she had been doing since graduating from lafollette.
no, we didn't talk. not really.
we weren't even facebook friends.
but i wish she were here. i wish i had another chance.



i do, and i will, but i will not have another chance with her, here.

one more thought. after i talked to leah this morning, i opened up my computer to find this:

we have all hurt someone tremendously, whether by intent or accident. it is an intrinsic human trait, and a deep responsibility, i think, to be an organ and a blade. but, learning to forgive ourselves and others because we have not chosen wisely is what makes us most human. we make horrible mistakes. it's how we learn. we breathe love. it's how we learn. and it is inevitable. ~nayirrah waheed

so i breathe love. it's how i learn. and it is inevitable.