"Oohh, you want to be a k-pop idol?" I remember asking my friend Jia freshman year as we sat on the crowded bus one spring afternoon.
"Well, it's my dream," she said as she gazed out the window with a fanciful look in her brown eyes. She said "dream" as though it was something she wasn't sure would ever become a reality; as if it was just something that she would only hold onto hope for without ever reaching a tangible future of stardom.
"Wow, I didn't know that," I had told her. "I hope that you hold onto that dream though, and try as much as you can to make it actually happen." I didn't have a dream of my own. For the longest time, there was nothing that simply clicked and made me think, "yes, this is what I want to do." There were many things I enjoyed, like drawing, and writing, and reading, and going outside, and learning about people or science. But as I pondered over the many careers or future plans that I would possibly go into, there was nothing that made my heart ache for it. Nothing that made me feel, this is where I belong. Nothing that made me say, this is what I'm meant to do, or, this is the reason for my existence.
Now, as I run breathlessly down the school hall, searching for him, I ponder over this question again. What is the meaning of my existence? As a person who follows a religion, I believe life is to worship God, but for what purpose does he want me to live for this world? I know I still have much time to think about this. It doesn't come to a person so easily, does it? A person needs years of life experience and wisdom to understand their purpose. But for now, I have to be there for them. The two of them. Someone believes they need me. Honestly, I'm not really that confident in myself, but...
I shove open the door leading to the school's rooftop, panting. He has to be here. He has to. And I'm going to be there for him, not just because of that letter, but because if I have to chance to help someone, I want to take it.
It's a step towards the future me.