She had been blocked again on Facebook. Earlier, she couldn’t view tagged photos, and now, she couldn’t view the profile pictures either. And even though it had been done by just clicking a link and editing privacy settings, it felt like a pair of scissors had gone through and snapped at yet another strand of the fragile thread holding it all together.
A fragile thread that was made of many fine strands… of a childhood spent growing up together, playing together, of shared memories, and of once-upon-a-time shared secrets. If she closed her eyes she remembered vividly, of endless sessions of ‘play-acting’, playing ‘dress-up’, cuddling and playing with their dolls together. Of giggly teenage years… when crushes were discussed, future love-lives dreamt of… of grumbling about difficult parents together, sharing common gossip, and secretly staying up late at night discussing their dreams.When the biggest hurt was fixed with a hug and a sloppy kiss… a few tears shed, a few “sorry’s” said, and all was well again.
If she thought about it deep enough, she could hear the sounds of their shared laughter… remember how it felt to hold hands and run against the wind…remember the number of times they would get angry with each other…remember the possessiveness and protectiveness they felt over each other.
No one really knew what happened along the way… no one could put a finger upon it. And yet, slowly the distance grew… and before they knew it, it had grown into a gaping chasm. Venturing into it to discover what lay at the bottom, with no safeguards, no guarantees and nothing to grip on. An exercise in futility perhaps? But it would be worth it, if she re-discovered a childhood love.
She wondered again, as she had so many times before, if she had done something wrong. But there were no real answers there. She leaned back and recollected sweet memories – of a time when more than blood bound them, when the closeness of their relationship was envied by others. The memories were overwhelming, and bitter-sweet.
Now the bitterness must be set aside. Nothing would take away the sweetness and innocence of that untouched love, of the pride and possessiveness she had in being the elder sister, of the adoration and love of a younger sister. Nothing would take away the love those two teenage girls shared.
But for now, that memory must be enough.