weivern.com Bit by Bit, Putting it Together

Maybe.

M

We’ve never had a photo of us together, come to think of it. I’ve known you and your little sister since I was 13, and yet I don’t even have a picture of you. How strange can that be? Maybe we were too busy trying to outdo each other with witty comments, and maybe I was too busy admiring your slander fingers dancing with the piano keys effortlessly, wishing such skills could come to me as easily. Maybe.

A decade later and you’re half way around the world from where I am. And this is when we reconnect. Despite our musical background, you are now a Physics major, and I, a researcher. What geeks we turned out to be. Such irony reminds me how unpredictable life can be. We haven’t spoken since we parted ways. Maybe a testimonial or two at good ol’ Friendster back then, and a buzz here and there on Facebook; but that’s not talking. That’s not making up for lost time.

Music. That was what that brought us together for the first time, even though we had completely different taste (you stuck to your classical pieces and advanced in your grades, I just gave up). And in a somewhat twisted roundabout way, we were excited to find out that we probably have something in common after all. It’s not like we grew to like Broadway and West End over the years – it was in us all along.

What the heck took us so long to find out? I laugh to myself.

No, Mandy Moore does not deserve to sing Disney classics, you say. I think you should give her a chance, I retort. I name my Broadway and West End heroes that I want to meet, and you tell me I should be where you are instead. I was taken aback when you told me you don’t know who Carol Burnett is, and I probably overreacted because she’s the funniest person I know. She’s the real Ellen, sans the beautiful wife. You apologize, but we both found out eventually that you’ve seen her in Annie, you just don’t know who she was. I talk about Glenn Close, and Sunset Boulevard. You talk about your favourite Broadway star who will be playing Norma Desmond this season.

Then you tell me you’re looking for a song you can’t remember, and you described two lines of the story because you haven’t watched the entire production before. In an instant I gave you a link to that ‘missing’ song and I could feel you jump out of your seat in excitement, mixed with a good dose of surprise. We agree that “Stars” is one of the best songs written. We agree that Philip Quast is amazing. We agree. We finally agree.

It’s nice to have my buddy back. It’s nice to know we can agree and disagree at the same time. All that said, I just realized that I actually miss you.

One day, we should take a photo together. And then some coffee.

Maybe.

 

Dedicated to an old, new friend.

About the author

weivern

Fueled by coffee and thrives on kindness. Generally pleasant.

1 comment

  • I am overwhelmed, in the most unexpected circumstances, with a little stroke of luck, in that very instant you said hello, and all the pieces magically fall together. i dont know if thats a miracle, but it certainly felt like it. And i tell you, being a physicist, I am sceptical to all these mushy play of hands. But really, I have no explanation for it, not in my lifetime.Thank you for taking a chance at me. And I’m glad i didn’t behave like a complete snob. I miss you =), we have time~

weivern.com Bit by Bit, Putting it Together

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