Change

“You’ll never change.”

I remember that day when I sat outside your shop, hugging my knees in a futile attempt to keep myself warm. I didn’t know it was your shop then, of course. It was cold and raining and I sat there miserably, crying my eyes out. I thought the whole thing was a nightmare and that I would wake up any minute. But, as I sat there waiting to wake up, the rain only fell harder, the wind only blew harsher, and the cold only got colder.

“You’ll always be the same.”

And I thought, maybe this isn’t a nightmare, maybe this is real. Was it still considered a nightmare when it was still there when you woke up? I’m still not entirely sure of that myself.

I remember thinking that he was right, that people couldn’t change, that people’s past mistakes would always a symbol of who they were and who they still are.

And then you came out of the shop and you held out a hand.

“Jessica, right?” you said.

You were wonderful, you know? Still are.

I nodded and was too scared to look up at you, his words still haunting me.

You continued to talk to me anyway and I will never be able to really express just how much that meant to me.

“Yuri. We met once. Do you remember me?”

I shook my head because I didn’t. But you laughed it off and kneeled down in front of me anyway.

“Well, it was only one time. Didn’t really except you to remember me anyway. Why don’t you come inside? You look cold.”

I looked up this time and your eyes softened at the sight of me. You smiled at me and held out your hand again.

“It’s okay.”

Was it okay?

“Please, you’re going to catch a cold like this.”

I sniffled and took your hand.

We’re good friends now, aren’t we? Not extremely close, but still pretty good friends.

I told you what happened, and you didn’t say anything for a while. I thought you believed the same thing he did, that people couldn’t change. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did. I thought the same too, after all.

“I’m not sure if people can change or not, but I don’t think people are defined by their mistakes. I think it’s what you do after that defines who you are.”

And then you looked at me and smiled.

“So, what are you going to do now?”

I told you I didn’t know.

“Ask yourself this. Are people capable of change? If someone were to work hard enough, could they change? If they truly hated a part of themselves, would they be able to find a way to change who they are?”

“Show me, Jessica. Prove to me that it’s possible.”

Were people capable of such a thing? I wasn’t sure. You asked me to prove it to you, but now I realize that you weren’t really asking me to prove it to you. This was something I had to prove to myself, and you knew that.

And then, for the millionth time that day, you smiled at me.

“If it helps at all, I believe in you.”

I just wanted to let you know, it did.