B

No matter how you look at it, the routine never changes. You arrive in the new place, you settle in, get new friends and then it's time to move on. By now, I got used to it. It's much easier leaving people behind than being left behind. And either way every place changes you, introducing you to new people - so much so that I never really have time to miss the old ones.

Some people may be envious about travelling the world from a young age. What they don't realise is that even with all the benefits, not having a stable home taught me to run away from commitment and always looking into the future.

Except, sometimes you meet one of those people who keep you close and don't let you run away. B was one of those for me.

*I am curious, B, how did you manage to keep in touch with all the different versions of myself throughout all those years?*

My family and I first moved out of my home country, Poland, and began living in Singapore right after I had my 14th birthday. By that time in my life, I finished primary school with good enough grades to move cities and go to one of the more prestigious middle schools in the capital city. Nevertheless, I turned out to be quite the disappointment, achieving average grades in a class full of geniuses (or so I believed at the time). One good thing that happened that school year was meeting B. To be honest with you, I am not sure how we became friends. Once I sat next to her in an English class and everything developed from there.

*I remember B, some people thought you were strange. Sitting alone at lunch, never participating in PE, you even looked strange with your too skinny limbs. For whatever reason, neither of those things fazed the old me.*

B taught me how to drink coffee and behave like an adult when we were out in the city, eating lunch after school in one of the trendy vegan cafes. That year we spent together, I changed a lot to be like her.

When my family and I moved to Singapore, I expected to lose contact. But she kept calling me every other day, wanting an update on my new life. I was so thankful. I didn't know English back then and communication with my new peers proved more difficult than I expected.

Once I learned English, and it took me about 6 months, my conversations with B became less frequent. It didn't bother me much, because finally, I was fitting in with my school mates. I was being invited to sleepovers and parties and during breaks, my group sat at this one specific table that was reserved only for us. It seemed to me that I finally became better, and I didn't need B to guide me anymore.

That was until 3 years later my family decided to move again, this time to Denmark. Fortunately, Danish language was not a necessity, making me more confident when getting to know people in my new school. Yet, this move made me aware of a different fear I unconsciously brought with me from Singapore.

*With all this moving, B, and you know how much I love it, how will anyone ever know me?*

Fitting in can be the best feeling in the world, but how can you know for sure that you fit in? Those people I fitted in in Singapore, I will not find anywhere else. I needed to adapt to the new environment, like an endangered species. But if I change once again to fit in, will I still be me?

Only B knew me - the me from the begging of middle school and the me from the beginning of Singapore. It may not be much, but she was all I had. 

Even if almost 2 years passed without a hello, I decided to reach her with an awkward  *hey, how are you* text. She seemed happy to hear from me and I felt so relieved. We talked for hours on end, catching up on everything that took place over the last months. By then, I could say that she knew me better than anyone, including my family. She told me later that she felt the same way.

As we did during the first months of Singapore, we talked almost every day before the connection faded out.  Now I have many friends here in Denmark, but soon enough I will have to leave for university. While the idea of a new country and studies of my own choice is very attractive to me, it keeps me thinking, who will I keep in touch with? Do I truly care about the people I surround myself with? And would I even want to keep them close for the next few years? It was that thought that reminded me of B. Well, 'reminded' is the right word. I never really forgot her, she just kept living at the back of my head, patiently listening to my thoughts.

Only recently I reached out to her again. She seemed happy, so I told her about my friends and what my thoughts on danish weather and danish pastry are.

Then, I told her something I haven't told many people, not even my parents, because I felt that she would respect and support me. I told her that I am gay. Surprisingly enough, she told me she finds women attractive too, not to the same extent as I do, but that she understands me. I told her about my first time, she told me about hers, and that's what we bonded over for the first time in 2 years.

In that moment, once again, her stories became my stories and my stories became hers. As far as psychological processes go, I will adopt parts of her into my own identity. For that, I am forever grateful because even if we don't talk, I will always care for her.

I wonder, once I move, again and again, will I call her? Or maybe she will be the one to reach out?

Will the story repeat itself? Or maybe, we will grow apart, once and for all, so much so that we won't need each other anymore. Because as grateful as we may be towards each other, or other people, this grateful feeling does not force us to keep in touch. We have separate lives now, have for a while now, and they just keep on getting more tangled.