Many years
ago, I met a girl named Gwen in school. She was boisterous, bubbly and very
intelligent. We started hanging out more
and more frequently – during recess, after school, on weekends. We had
never-ending conversations about everything under the sun. We were the best of
friends. Sadly, this friendship was not meant to last.
Being at a
rebellious age, the two of us decided to skip lessons one day to go out and
play. We sneaked past the distracted security guard, dashed out of the school
gate and had a mini celebration for getting out of school successfully. Barely
a few meters away from the gate, though, we were caught by a teacher who
happened to be making her way to school.
In the
teacher’s office, we were questioned about our wilful actions, which both of us
quietly admitted to. Finally, the teacher asked who had initiated it. Silence.
She asked one more time. Still silence. A third time. Gwen slowly raised her
hand and pointed at me. My heart sank. Gwen was the one who suggested skipping
classes, why is she accusing me of doing so?
After that
day, we never talked or looked at each other in the eye. I hated her for
accusing me of something I did not do. She probably could not face me with her
guilt. This went on for 4 years. Finally, I broke the silence when I was trying
to organize a class outing. We talked for a long time, she apologized, we
laughed about it, and the hatchet was buried.
Though we
may no longer be best friends nor hang out with each other all the time like we
used to, I am glad the cold war has finally ended after all these years and we
finally reached a common understanding of how the other party felt.
I once read from a book that "Time solves most things. And what time can’t solve, you have to solve yourself." What do you think? Does time heal all wounds, or is it what we do with the time that does?
