Zirong

Singapore

- INTJ
- CA Alumni
- typical Libra
- Ravendor
- author of 1 book
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- singing & song writing & flute
- a perfectionist and a dreamer :)

- CHECK OUT my gorgeous twin sister Starlitskies!!!

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CHECK OUT ALSO my bestie&travel buddy&amazing poet Parisienne!!! And feel free to join our John Green Appreciation Society if you are also a fan of his amazing books!(and perhaps his Crash Course Series XD)

Dreamers can never be tamed :)

Currently reading: *Ariel* by Sylvia Plath - "Love set you going like a fat gold watch"

If you need a peer review just drop a comment under any of my pieces :)

Happy reading&writing~

Phone Calls, Letters, and You

December 20, 2020

Prompt: Write about your favourite memory, but from the POV of someone besides yourself. (by wreathwriter

We last called each other...well...about 1 year ago. 

Phone calls are an important component of our lives. When we were younger we could not stop twittering and laughing over the phone, and ended up being forced to hang off by our parents each time because we had not finished our work or it was time for meals. After we stepped into secondary school, our phone calls were suddenly shortened, not by any adult, but by our timetables and ever-more barren land of "topics in common". After all, we were no longer in the same class, though only one wall away. She, as expected, got into the best and most competitive one, and had smiled less ever since. We would still walk together and chat if we met each other on the way back home or to school. Music, school, gossip. She loves writing but I don't, so she never talked much about writing. I knew she was still she, with that endearing yet precocious and melancholy spirit. I still know. But somehow the air between us was gradually de-sugared. In Grade 9 we had a huge fight but quickly made peace. However, we both knew neither of us truly got out of it as we seldom met one another after that due to the staggered timetables. We left it to Time, our trusted old friend. But it turned out that Time only ruthlessly decomposed the sugarcoat this time. 

After the high school entrance exam she decided to further her study in Singapore. As expected, she passed the written exams and interview as breezily as she could. I knew how much efforts she paid. Before her flight we got plenty of time to stay together. Both of us tried hard to fill the holes, and our phone calls were lengthened because we had time and a long list of wishes for each other in view of the upcoming separation by sea. During her visits she once brought me all the materials she prepared in advance for the local high school, along with a letter. 

"It's still about a month till our farewell." Holding the letter, I tried to smile.

"Just feel like writing one to you...you know...letters are great...our childhood favourite."

"Call me when you miss me there. I'll call you, too." I put down the letter.

"Definitely. But I still prefer writing to you," she chuckled, "Phone calls don't last."

And it turned out, she was right.

All our calls through the years have gone with the wind. But all the letters stayed there, quietly craving for a reopening. They marked our footsteps of growth in childhood, our silver laughter, our innocent ideas — so distant, so real, yet so determinedly long over.

We only called each other once when she’s away. She showed me her dorm and everything in a singsong voice, but I could tell she was not happy. I told her about the nerve-racking high school ordeal; she could only sigh with me and gave a few words of encouragement. We couldn’t help each other out though phone calls. Our fights only belonged to ourselves now — we knew that so clearly that the calls were merely for a last relief before the wars officially started. After that, phone calls only occurred when she's back home for school holiday. She would bring me gifts every time, with an indispensable letter. She did write to me there also, not in letters sent across the sea, but in stories she crafted and kept in her laptop and the long long caption under her social media posts. In 2018 she wrote a story titled "Our Flowers”as my birthday gift, which made me cry out loud. It just reminded me of so many things we'd been through together and how life had changed so much that there are now barriers neither phones calls nor letters can ever cross. Most times chatting face-to-face is impossible, and social media texts are so hard to see through. All the pinky promises and how we spelled "best friend" in each other's palm flashed through my mind and vanished, leaving behind a pathetic blank space — we managed to fill the holes, but when are we going to fill this void overstretched by distance? 

Due to a difference in system, my college application starts one year earlier than hers. She promised me to visit the city I'm in now during her winter holiday, but Covid-19 got in our way and she has been stuck in Singapore for a whole year. Sometimes she comments below my posts about college life how much she is expecting life in college, which must be a vastly different experience. She says she wants to travel even farther, ideally to the United States, and build up her dream there while starting a new adventure. How beautiful it is, that we choose such different paths, and desire such different things, but deep down we both believe we are so similar.

Now 2021 is about to cross the threshold, and we both have quite a number of life-changing decisions to make ahead. Recently we chat a lot, about various random stuff, including a cute guy in my club whose appearance in a photo started her nagging me to seize the opportunity. Aside from this, she told me she feels truly happy in December, as she has ample time to read and write and paint, which I'm more than glad to hear. I guess we just need to make the most of the limited ways to connect we have for now, and Time and our hearts will give us the answer in the end. 

Today I saw a prompt asking about "favourite memory," and my answer is all the memories we made together. The same for her. I know, as always.

(I don't like writing but it's nice to write about her :))
word count: 977.
I did't see anyone writing for this prompt so wanna give it a try. Hope it works! 
(this is updated because I corrected two grammar slips)

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4 Comments
  • Starlitskies

    Oooh this is such a moving piece! I can't exactly relate but I guess I might in the future. I saw this piece on the dashboard a while back but didn't have the time to properly read it.

    "But it turned out that Time only ruthlessly decomposed the sugarcoat this time." I love the sugarcoat metaphor.!

    "All the pinky promises and how we spelled "best friend" in each other's palm flashed through my mind and vanished, leaving behind a pathetic blank space — we managed to fill the holes, but when are we going to fill this void overstretched by distance? " The imagery is so vividly beautiful here.

    "How beautiful it is, that we choose such different paths, and desire such different things, but deep down we both believe we are so similar." It is beautiful and the way you have worded it is even more beautiful! <3

    This must have been quite cathartic to write; I sense a lot of emotion behind the words and I'm guessing the protagonist is talking about you? (If you don't mind answering that.)


    8 months ago
  • Emi

    This is such a beautiful story. Almost bittersweet, but well-written and touching. I love it!


    9 months ago
  • Fariha

    Re: Thankyou so much !


    9 months ago
  • BlueWolf (Semi Hiatus)

    Re: Thank you so much your comment meant a lot to me. (Spelling is not my strong suit. :3 )


    9 months ago