Memorious

Humans think the world revolves around themselves. In reality, we all revolve around the Sun.

Of course, it’s hard to keep yourself on the ground. Many people have dreams and egos that are so inflated that they can become their own rockets and fly to space, never to be seen again. Hence, I am the anchor to the many people around me, not allowing them to go astray, keeping them steady before anything worse can happen to them.

At night, however, I allow myself to be immersed in the blanket called the starry sky. While looking at the night sky, I allow myself to be selfish and dream of things that will likely be unable to happen in reality. I no longer am weighed down by sanity, and instead am brought into a new galaxy that allows me to be truly me.

The night sky constantly reminds me of my insignificance. It reminds me I am only small, but this smallness is what makes me aspire for something big.

I take my backpack and exit the house to go stargazing again.

Despite not having much knowledge on the sky, I still make it a habit to routinely go to the playground near my university, spread out a red plaid tablecloth on the dewy grass, and just look at the sky. Life as a university student is stressful, and constantly I feel as if I’m tied down, so it’s essential for me to unlock these shackles every night, else I go sane from sanity.

Robotically I buy my ticket, board the train and wait. During this time, I play the entire day in my head. I remember the coursework due on my classes in a week. I remember an engaging conversation I had with my project partner on frogs. I remember more work. I remember an obnoxious guy from the next building that keeps approaching me no matter how many times I inform them that I hate them with all my guts. I remember a chat with my professor on a surprise test. I remember university.

I get off the train. At this time the platforms are usually empty, so no matter how deep in my head I get, it is unlikely that I will bump into anyone.

Dazedly I walk along a few more concrete pathways until I reach the familiar swings with no swing, plastic slides, and rusted seesaws. The playground is in no utilizable condition, but I never came to play on them.

I spread the tablecloth on the grass and let myself fall into it. The cloth is stained wet in some areas because I forgot it rained this morning. I have the immense urge to slap myself. Sitting back up, I decide to look at the sky without lying down.

The sky is not particularly starry today. The navy-blue sky is usually dotted with white freckles, but today, those stars exist as beauty marks, only a good few visible in the sky. I feel lonelier than ever, looking at the friendless white spots in the sky. Despite glowing radiantly, their power alone is not enough to decorate the whole sky. No matter how good you are alone, you can’t be powerful unless another person is beside you.

I then hear treading on the grass. I turn around to see a girl, noticeably younger than me, but pretty nonetheless. She has thick black hair loosely tied behind into a ponytail and a small face. She looks down on me with curious brown eyes, tilting your head.

No matter how pretty or how young, I don’t appreciate uninvited company.

“What are you doing here?” I frowned, irritated. She continued staring down at me. “It’s late. Don’t you have parents to tuck you to bed? Go away.”

Despite my bitter tone, she simply blinks with indifference. I sigh, massaging the area between my eyebrows. “Leave, please. It’s cold out, and you don’t want to catch a cold. There’s school tomorrow.”

She then takes a seat next to me on the picnic blanket. “The sky is empty today. Why?”

Why is this kid talking to me? “It’s probably the clouds. They’re covering up the other stars in the sky. It rained this morning, you know?”

“You must know a lot about the sky.” She looks up above her. The stars still lie there as ornaments. “It’s not so pretty today.”

I turn to look at the girl. Her eyes are black now, except for the faint reflection of the street lights behind them. There is something familiar about those eyes, but I can’t put my finger on it. I decide to turn my attention back on the sky. After all, I didn’t pay a regular train fee to chat with a little girl.

“Don’t you think it’s sad?” she then asks. “The sky is almost empty today.”

“I guess… but it was bound to happen.”

“I think of those stars as guardians, looking down at me. The starrier the sky, the more protection given to us by God. That’s probably why I like starry skies a lot more.”

For a small kid, she has her fair share of metaphors and deep thoughts.

But the thought of stars as guardians is what reveals her real emotional maturity.

“Their beauty is just obscured by clouds today.” I reply. “It isn’t fair to think that they are gone just because you can’t see them. That’s a bit selfish.”

She looks at me with a tilted head.

“Anyways, we do need skies like these, to remind us that we can’t always have beautiful things in life. To remind us that we don’t command the skies. It’s all chance.”

“You…” The girl continued to stare at me. “You’re lonely, aren’t you?”

I coughed. “What?”

“You’re independent, because you don’t tend to share these thoughts. You let things come and go, and never take initiative of situations. You analyse the sky so much, because the stars above give you company.”

“Didn’t I just explain to you? It isn’t fair to think that those stars are gone just because they’re obscured. That doesn’t mean-”

“There’s the independence. You keep searching for your own conclusions without knowing whether they are true or not, because you need to reassure your own restless mind.”

I am stunned to silence. This girl, whom I only just met, had a conversation about stars with me and discovered most of my core traits already.

She is honestly someone impressive.

“How do you know that you’re right?” I ask her. “You do know there’s a chance you may be wrong, yet you choose to take the risk. How are you confident?”

“I’m confident, because” she looks at her fingers, playing and tangling them “I’m the same.”

“You? You’re just a kid.” I raise an eyebrow.

“This kid is the essence of an adult of the future.” she shrugs. “And I know that I’m yours.”

I finally recall where those eyes are from.

A girl looks at the distant figure of the park.

Said figure only wears a hoodie, and tucks her thick black hair into a black cap. She looks up longingly at the sky as she sits in the middle of the playground grass, atop a red and white plaid tablecloth.

This is what people turn to become, huh. She walks up to the adult, who is obviously inhospitable towards her. She ignores her, sits down, and begins talking about the sky to accompany her.

The more she talks, the more she realises that people grow up. That has to be the scariest part.

She cuts the other’s thoughts off midsentence. She begins telling her she’s independent but in reality, humans almost always depend on something. What differs is whether the coping mechanism was a person or anything else.

“How do you know you’re right? You do know there’s a chance you may be wrong, yet you choose to take the risk. How are you so confident?”

Her words are tinged with a hesitation and slight tenseness. That’s another thing people gain as they age.

Their core, nonetheless, remains the same.

“I’m confident because I’m the same.”

“You?” the elder girl scoffs. “You’re just a kid.”

“This kid is the essence of an adult of the future. And I know that I’m yours.”

Her eyes widen. The girl nods in understanding that she gets the message. With that, her job is done. She stands up.

“It’s been a while. I’ll get going now.”

Flashing her one last smile, she runs off, but not before turning around one last time and yelling

“Don’t lose me again, will you?”

On the train back home, I can’t stop thinking about the girl.

It doesn’t make sense: who she was, how she talked to me, why she talked to me.

To be honest, I actually know the answers to all those three questions. My logical mind just refuses to accept the unreal reality.

This girl is making me think all over again, which defeats the purpose of sky-watching in the first place. I have the urge to go back, but I don’t want to overuse my allowance. I eventually settle with the table in front of my apartment. Sitting on the wooden bench, I stare up into the sky.

There are less stars than half an hour ago.

There must be more clouds, I decided.

For some reason, I can’t stop at just that conclusion.

You keep searching for your own conclusions without knowing whether they are true or not, because you need to reassure your own restless mind.

I may be correct, but I also may be wrong.

Somehow, that feeling of uncertainty stirs an uneasy feeling in me. I feel agitated once again.

Don’t lose me again, will you?

She thinks I’ve lost her. She’s wrong. All I have done was let go of her. I found no use of her to remain.

Don’t lose me again.

My backpack begins to vibrate, humming a familiar sound. I take my phone out of my bag and slide my finger along the screen to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, do you know the assignment for tomorrow? Can I see your work? I’m kind of not up for doing it.”

Yeah sure. Why not? You’d better do it next time, since I always help you out. You owe me big time. Of course I’m always up for doing work.

I don’t feel like being a pushover today.

I hang up.

“It’s been a while since you did that.”

I turn around to find the same girl from earlier.

“Were you following me?” I ask her.

“I’m always with you, it’s just the first time you’re actually accepting of my presence.” She shrugs.

My head hurts. “Can you just… stop speaking complicated for once? I’m not in the mood for this.”

“If you aren’t, then I wouldn't be here with you. If you really aren’t, I wouldn’t be visible. But you can see me, can’t you? That means you mean to see me.”

This day is too overwhelming for me. I bend forward and bury my head in my arms on the table.

        “So am I hallucinating?” I ask her. “Am I looking at a ghost? Is this a trick someone decides to play on me? Or have I finally gone insane?”

She strokes her chin. “I guess none?”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I’m just something you need. We’ve always been alone, so we help each other out.”

“I guess I can understand why you help me. But I’m helping you?”

The little girl smiles to herself. “In more ways than one. A little girl can be lonely too. You were me once. Shouldn’t you know?”

  I was once a girl who never had anyone to talk to. My parents were never home. My friends never made time for me; it was me who pushed herself out of the way for others.

It has been a long time. I almost forgot my own struggles that time.

“You did lose me.” She smiles to herself melancholically, looking down at the floor. The sight of her looking so dejected, biting her lip with resplendent eyes. I want to reach out to her and tell her it’s all fine. So I do.

I take her hand and invite her to sit on the bench next to me. She blinks at me and does as I tell her.

“I did lose you,” I began “but you tried to find me. And now I found you again.”

We both simultaneously look at the sky at the same time. Some of the clouds have began to clear up, revealing some of the hidden stars. Two or three stars have their sparkle restored.

“The sky’s no longer empty,” I tell her “because of you. We don’t have to look at the sky as two separate people. We can watch it together.”

She smiles gratefully at me. I allow her to do so, because she’s just as happy to see me as I am to see her. I smile back, my heart filling with a nostalgic feeling.

The stars instantaneously glimmer at the same time.

Humans think the world revolves around themselves. That’s up to us, because compared to this galaxy, we’re only infinitesimal.

Ultimately, a few people will revolve around you, and you will revolve around them at the same time.

The fulfilment of happiness isn’t give-and-take. It’s more than that.

And for that to happen, you can’t let go of what’s important to you.

The stars were filled with memories.

The night sky was beautiful.