Today, I lost a childhood friend to the hands of God.
At least, that's what I'd like to believe, for it is beyond my knowledge if God embraces those who come to see Him by hands, arms, or perhaps by other means of power I am not capable in knowing of.
What I am sure of is that my friend is on his way to meet God.
At least that's what I'd like to believe.
It springs from the moment we started being friends when we were new kids in elementary school.
We moved in to the new school when we were in fourth grade, and being the two new kids in the class, we became close.
Closer, in fact, that we found out our homes were merely five-minute apart from each other.
Thus began our long walks we shared after school ended, which extended to exploring uncharted routes in small villages, finding out new places to play, kept walking and running until it was not only the school sessions that ended, but also the whole elementary school period.
We went to the same junior high school, yet temptations to find new friends were hard to resist.
We continued our encounters in the same senior high school, yet this is the time when cliques matter, of which we differ quite greatly.
Acknowledgment is enough to make us aware that each of us is present, albeit in different place, different time, and with occasional gathering under the pretense of reunion and holiday visit, we catch up.
Until now.
Today, I lost my childhood friend.
But today, I also found out that, despite the absence of many unbelievable years and missed chances, I discovered his sweet innocence as a kid who, at the tender age of a boy about to become a teenager, already possessed calm and charming persona.
Thus, I will hang on to that particular memory.
I believe, what became of him in his later years, they were mirrors of his childhood. The moment which I am proud to be close to.
Today, I found you again.
Now, rest in peace, An.
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