Notes of Feelings and Reflections on an Event in My Life

Foto oleh Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 di Unsplash

English version

Saturday, April 2026

I met up with someone who was close to me back in high school. It was their invitation; we had tried to schedule it a few times, and finally, it actually happened.

They were a few minutes late. "Still the same as ever," I thought. We exchanged greetings and conversation, shared information, swapped ideas and perspectives, and caught each other up on our lives—talking about our experiences, things that hadn’t gone as expected, and so much more.

There was so much, I mean, a LOT shared between us. So many stories told (on both sides) and so many topics that flowed naturally. Perhaps it was because we still felt "close."

Full of stories and topics; the type who speaks rapidly about things they love, using expressive hand gestures, tone of voice, and facial expressions. Just like back in high school. It was only about perspectives that had changed in them. Develop, trying to think outside the box, all while reflecting on the past and who they used to be: their mindset, behavior, decisions, external influences, and what they gained from it all.

So many stories they shared... So many stories I shared... We found ourselves circling back to the same two themes: the past and the future. Wow. Quite a span of topics for a reunion after so long. We touched upon and revisited our high school moments thay were part of the past. Well, it was worth discussing.

It’s a fascinating concept—how someone learns something while caught up in a difficult situation. As the main character, or experienced it themselves.

How one chooses to move forward, take action, and make firm decisions when they, or those close to them are being wronged or subjected to behavior that crosses the line. How one seeks a way to secure "justice" for themselves and their friends in the face of such harm.

It’s funny how one learns these things only after weathering, or experiencing, or participating in multiple trials. Two or three times, perhaps; yet the first time around, nothing happened. They turned away. Looked the other way. Cast aside their conscience.

It’s quite funny too, how the process of reflecting on the past and thinking, "I should have done something." A process that unfolds over such a very, very long time.

Especially that word, "Maybe." The word that starts the sentence. "Maybe..." "Maybe I..." Hesitation. Uncertainty. Not knowing for sure. Is the person actually hesitating? Or are they simply unaware that they keep saying "maybe"? Ah, who knows.

Though it’s funny how often one dwells on past actions—or inactions—regarding those recurring difficult situations they’ve lived through. Situations experienced personally, privately, and directly. Or perhaps the reflection comes right after enduring those trials.

Wow. Everyone’s process is different, isn’t it? One person compared to another, I mean. Each individual.

As time passed and the evening breeze set in, our drinks remained unfinished while visitors arrived, in pairs, in groups, or even alone, and the music shifting genres over the speakers.

I then noticed that they was the one doing most of the talking, coming up with topics and seeing them through to the end. Hold on, I shared stories too, thinking of topics we should talk about, until there were moments where we both started speaking at once and chose to yield to one another. In the end, they would go first, then I would.

Yet, even now, I feel I am just as I used to be: a listener.

I listen more than I speak. I pay attention to details and the surroundings while listening; to other people, gestures, voices, the language used, the way stories are told, the nature surroundings, the passage of time, and the atmosphere.

They are the one talking more because they wants me to know so much about their life, or am I simply the type who naturally falls into the listener role in a two-way conversation? Perhaps it’s a bit of both.

I used to think I would become someone who "talks" more after high school ended. In reality, I didn’t. I remained a listener.

"A skilled listener," they said.

"What a great listener you are," said a friend I’d known for only three days. "It’s so comfortable having you as a listener," said a friend.

"That’s why I love sharing things with you; you’re the perfect listener for everyone," said a close friend.

And so on.

Listener, listening.

I don’t dwell too deeply on the fact that I am still a listener.. the same person I was back in high school, known by people too.

Besides just being a "reliable listener," they told me that I had changed. They had "guessed" in changes in me since we last met: on high school graduation day, and hadn’t seen each other since. "There’s something different about you, yet there’s also something that hasn’t changed at all." That was how they put it, or at least, the part I wanted to, and allowed myself to write down here.

They said this midway through our conversation, just as they began to really look at me and stopped listening to my story. They ended up by sharing their hopes for my future, offering encouragement in that signature style.

It’s funny how someone can remain just as they were "back then," even amidst a different environment, a vastly different one.

“Back then”, or “In the past”.

"Back then": a time that has passed.

It’s funny you realize when they compare the past with the present. It becomes clear when highlighted by someone from the past, someone close during my school days, and offer support the very next day, or the day after that... someone who knew my high school life well, having stepped into it and knocked on the door.

So, I’ve concluded that it’s perfectly fine that I’m still a listener. After all, that is simply part of who I am, my true self.

Perhaps in five or ten years, in a place that feels foreign (compared to where I am now), in an environment that is vastly different, or perhaps similar, there might be a chance I’ll change into someone who speaks up more, tell stories more, the ‘talker’.

Who knows? Or maybe I’ll still be a great listener.

See you, future me. xoxo