My first thought was unclear in my own head. My mind drew a blank. I had no idea what I was thinking. This wasn't what I had anticipated at all. This wasn't right. It wasn't part of the script. It was entirely out of place.
In my head, every person I ever met had a specific place, a role to play. I could predict everyone based on their behaviour, their words. I knew how every single person thought and acted. Because the whole world was predictable, going in one line, and up until this point I had always thought that no one could veer away from the leading thread. Not one person had ever acted this out place and character. Friends left, and that didn't surprise me. Family lied, and I was prepared. Sam came back, and even if I had thought he wouldn't, I hadn't completely driven the option out.
But Lena? She wasn't supposed to do that. It wasn't part of the plan. Dying was completely out of question for her. She was supposed to be that one consistent person that always acted the same, always had that one unchanging aura. She was always meant to stay the sunshine, the well-known girl. The effortlessly smart and beautiful classmate.
Life never prepares you to lose those people. Even if you aren't particularly close with them, their leaving will always come across as odd, unfamiliar, uncomfortable.
When I heard the news though, my first reaction wasn't tears, denial or anger. I was unsure of my thoughts, but I knew exactly what I was feeling. The only way I could classify that feeling was unsettling. When I think back to that moment, the only thing I recall experiencing was, well...
indifference.
A weird, unwelcome, shameful indifference. I didn't want to feel so untouched. I was embarrassed of my own self, within my own being. But no matter how deep I dug, I could not find a single sliver of care.
I could not give a single fuck.
And that scared me.
Was I wrong for not caring? Was something wrong with me because I wasn't empathizing with a dead young girl?
Maybe.
But I had to hide that at all costs. My apathy definitely wasn't normal, and I couldn't show Sam.
So, I relied on the real thing: the feeling of being taken aback, the shock, the surprise.
"What." I mumbled.
"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have heard it from me, it's not fair to you. I'm very sorry for your loss, if you were friends with her. She was a nice girl" Sam said, lowering his gaze.
A few moments of silence passed.
"How?" It was the only thing that could come out.
"They said she had been sick for a long time, and it was only a matter of a few years until she had to go. They also said the parents told them she was supposed to live longer, but I guess something went wrong and... well you know" He explained, in a breathy and hesitant voice.
After a few seconds, I asked:
"Wait. Do you go to Tawle?"
He nodded.
I found it quite curious. I thought I would have recognized him from the hallways the first time he had come in.
"Uhm yeah, sorry. I'm doing my Masters in biology there" he adds after a moment.
I realized a bit too late that I had changed the subject a bit too fast, so I went back to Lena -God rest her soul-.
"Did you know her?" I asked, trying to get back on track.
"Not really, but I met her a few times. She was a good person, I gather".
In that, he was right. Lena was indeed a very good person. Shame. The world could've used a person like her.
So sad, how the worst things happen to the best people. Or maybe it's reversed. Maybe It's the good people that have the worst things happening to them. Maybe the universe decided they needed more balance. The person was too good, had too much kindness going on, that they needed balance. Darkness. The world sent darkness in their lives just to be the equivalent of their abundant brightness.
How cruel, but undoubtedly necessary. You cannot have everything in life, nor nothing, for that fact. There is always something good for the bad, and something bad for the good.
"I would've never thought something like that could happen to her. I mean, she was fine just a few days ago, I never even saw her quiver in the slightest" I added, truthfully.
"I know. Such a terrible shock to me too, I mean, I just came here to get some coffee and the moment I sit down, they tell me she died. It's so weird trying to think about what you were going to do just before the news, am I right?" He said, in a sort of amazement.
Before I knew it, I was sliding in the booth, opposing Sam. I had gotten so distracted by the news and our conversation that I had completely lost control of what I was going to do.
We talked for a while. About Lena, about life, and anything and everything. I liked it. He listened. He talked. That's not something everyone does.
In a conversation, there are two main types of people, and one rare subtype.
On one side, you have the talkers. The ones that won't shut up for more than a total of five seconds, the ones that will overwhelm you with information about skiing or their great-uncle who fought in World War 2. With them, expressing your opinion on a subject is a no-go, because they will always get offended and take it personally. My advice? Do not engage in arguments with talkers. They will out-talk you.
On the other side, you have the listeners. These people will nod and listen intently while making Intense eye-contact, if they're really listening. If they're not, they will hit you with a few hmm's every two to three sentences and interject with ah's and Oh's every once in a while. With listeners, you will be in therapy. Talking and talking, answering a question they asked 7 minutes ago, while feeling like you're not really having a conversation, but a mere monologue. Some people like that, but I don't. I feel like if I talk too much, I'm oversharing, and that gives the upper hand to the other party. I also don't like leading a conversation, it's too much work. My advice? Do not engage unless in need of venting.
Then, the rare few who are both talkers and listeners. This position is usually reserved to the people closest to you. Whether it be a favourite cousin, or a best friend you only see once every one to two years. With this type, you can have a conversation. A real one. You will feel like you haven't talked with anyone for years, and you can let it all go with them. They will listen and reply with their own life view, not being scared to offend you if their opinion is opposing to yours, and unscared to tell you when they are vulnerable and where it hits them the most.
With Sam, we didn't get too deep about each other, since we had only met a few nights before. But to me, I had a gut feeling that we weren't going to take too long to get there. And I honestly couldn't wait. Putting Lena aside, I really wanted to know more about him. He was a thread that I was willing to untangle little by little. I did not want to rush anything, but I yearned to get to be with this guy. I was hoping we'd get better acquainted over time, and to do that, when we came back to school, I started subtly searching for him, to see if I'd happen to run into him again.
But who knows, maybe he might approach me of his own volition and spark up a conversation about cats or the undeniable ticking of the excruciating being we call Time.
As for Lena, I needed to absorb the news first, and then we could talk about her. I wasn't ready to reflect too much on her death, so I waited until the funeral to allow myself a thought about her. Her funeral was a week later, also known as today, in a few hours.