Remnants

Recently, I read a friend's blog. In it, she discussed a single pair of ragged, worn, but well-loved Converse. She mentioned that she had allowed someone from her past to write upon the surface of these beloved shoes, which have just recently surfaced from the clutter of her car. I can't help but wonder, does she even remember who it was that attempted to immortalize themselves upon her shoes? Or does that memory eventually fade into the clutter of one's mind as well?

Usually, a pair of shoes decorated by some friend of long ago would not spark so much curiosity from me. But I, too, once allowed someone to doodle upon the creamy crescent at the tip of my favorite pair of black Converse. And now each time I shove my feet into them, lace them up tightly, walk around in them for the day, and display them for the world to see, I feel as if I'm wearing a practical reminder of a broken friendship.

I refuse to take the bleach or any other cleaning solution to their scuffed and bruised surface however. To me that seems as if I'd be obliterating the very memory of that friend. That's why I walk around in shoes drawn on by someone I no longer trust. It's like any other mark a person may leave on you, whether good or bad. It helps define you, and you feel as if something is missing if it's no longer there.

It could easily be compared to a photograph you keep on your desk. A photograph of you and your best friend in the eighth grade posing by a tree at the park, your faces framed by the bright, multi-colored words "Best Friends."

Even if the sentiment, best friends, no longer rings true, you leave it there to remember a time when those words created the truest statement you knew. Just because two friends have drifted apart, does not mean that the friendship's very existence should be questioned or even forgotten. Because for a period in your lifetime, there was a bond that made that person very important to you. You experienced rites of passage and the hardships of growing up together. You don't just discard those memories because time and choices have separated you.

It's a part of high school; it happens to everyone. There's not a single person I know who hasn't evolved over the years and adapted new friends and left a few of the old ones behind. I've done it myself. It just happens. It's one of those things that sucks about growing up and becoming an adult.

But never, never get rid of the symbols, the remnants of that bond. Whether they be a pair of doodled-on-Converse, a note from the dreadful middle school years, a picture, a ticket to a concert you attended together, or even some stupid school project you spent weeks working on. If you throw away the concrete evidence of your friendship, soon you'll only be left with memories. Which fade quickly in just a few years' time. Each friend leaves a significant mark, whether good or bad, that contributes to the person you become. And no one should forget where they came from or how they got there.