I met Enya today. It had been quite a while, almost 2 years. She had changed, evolved. Despite our friendship for 7 years and the fact that we were living in the same town, she never cared to let me know her adress. The other day I recieve a text from her to see her today evening, also saying that there might be no other chance. Naturally, I was bewildered. The girl never cares to let me know where she is. And she calls me her best friend. But then again, I always seen her in another world: drawing something on her wrists, writing away in her diary, using a camera to capture any damn thing, singing something to herself. She was so normal in her own weird way.
"Why are you going there anyway?"
"To know where I came from Mimi..."
"And what do you know about em'?"
"Nothing?!?! Well, how the hell can you be so comitted to people you don't even know?"
"Mimi, they're my family."
"A family you don't even know?"
"Mimi, bloods in your veins. It just is there. It don't need to know food. It just takes it in."
"Enya, sometimes I don't get you."
"Honey," she hugged me so sweetly for the first time in my life. Her voice seemed changed, more polite and inclined to a weird sweetness. "You're not the only one."
"Get your hands of me slop!" I say as she would've said if I ever hugged her. "Does Angelus know?" Angelus is the man she loves.
"No? Enya! You LOVE him!"
"And that's why I won't tell him. That would just make him uspet!"
"Kill me... What's gone into you?"
"Mimi, you won't get the gist of it. We're peace. So be us."
As she ignores the details I ask, tears start filling in my eyes. She had changed, softened, became more fragile. I saw her in anger, I saw her in despair, I saw her bewilderment, but never her fear. And she was beautiful still in her fear... She was the beautiful I needed to be to have the world beneath my feet and hold my head up high like her. But this new Enya... The world wasn't below her feet and our heads were at the same level, her still bowing lower. I remember her wildness, her craze, her gyspsy features being overtaken by domestication and making amends with life. The tears start getting more intense. I am crying now. I can't cry! I'm too young to give up. I rush out of that apartment. This isn't the Enya I had befriended. Rather, the one who had befriended me. There was a different girl and I said to her... Goodbye Enya.