“Someday I will have a best friend all my own. One I tell my secrets too. One who will understand my jokes without my having to explain them.” This is my childhood dream. Dream to have a best friend, friend all my own. But the tragedy is that I never got a best friend who is all my own. I was a lonely child. Very lonely. I didn't have any close friend. I used to stay alone, walk alone, speak alone. So, I used to think alone is synonyms of me. These days, I used to feel so tiny. Very tiny. Tiny like an ant. Tiny like a mosquito. All my friends were bigger than me. Quite bigger. Quite beautiful. Quite handsome. They were different than me. I was different than them. So, we never tried to understand each other, neither they nor I.
But my lonely childhood still hunts me. I do not feel comfortable talking about my childhood memories. I really don't want to revisit them. Actually, I do not feel nostalgic thinking about childhood friends. In Fact, I want to delete my childhood memories if this can be possible. Sometimes when I think about my childhood I used to consider myself an outsider. One who did not belong in a crowd. Or the crowd of friends didn't recognize her. One who didn't have friends or friends did not want to make her friend.
Most of the people really love their childhood. I am the one who really hates it. One who have worse childhood memories. Without loving friends. Without close friends. I am one, who spent her childhood sitting in one corner, playing with own teddies. I was that child for whom silence gave company to talk. One whose existence was only in her family because friends did not recognize her. These days, I used to consider myself too unlucky because all have best friend except me. But the desire to have best a friend remained unfulfilled up to now. My childhood was bleak. It was bleak because childhood days without friends is really a worse thing. There is nothing bitter experience than this.
I don’t know I am right or wrong. But I am talking through my own experiences. Usually, a person who do not have comfortable or normal beginning that person really have a different concept about the world. More pessimistic perception. More hopelessness about the life. And so on about the world. I am also come into this category. Mostly I write about worse experiences rather than good. Pessimistic rather than optimistic. For example: recently I have written about myself in this way, “Neither I am shy nor bold. Neither I am beautiful nor smart. I am one, who laughs without cause. Sometimes mocking own self. Sometimes celebrating with own mistakes. So, I am one who lives but do not notice. I am one, who writes but do not want to publish. I am that image people never wanted to see. I am that song people never wanted to listen. I am that book, people never wanted to read.” Through this writing also I can see my pessimistic attitude towards myself. Sometimes I think that these things might be an effect of my lonely childhood. Nowadays, I try to be frank but in fact I am too introvert. I do not feel comfortable in a crowd. Instead of it, I enjoy myself reading some favourite fiction or poetry books.
Sometimes people say that everything happens for good cause. In my case too, my lonely childhood somehow gives me some good things. I was lonely so I got some time to think about myself. Some time to explore me. Time to enjoy with books. Time to think about my mistakes. And the main thing is that today my own unique perception about life and the world is shaped considering those things.