“The more sand that has escaped from the hourglass of our life, the clearer we should see through it.” 
― Jean-Paul Sartre
 

Krystal, Sungjong and I had been friends for as long as I can remember.

If I let my mind wander to the past, as far as it could reach, I found that my first memory was inspecting baby Krystal and baby Sungjong’s faces with wide-eyed curiosity. It was ridiculous perhaps, but back then, I couldn’t find a difference between their faces. It took me a long time to distinguish between them and by that time, I was playing with Krystal and Sungjong in the local park. Our mothers would be there with us, laughing and talking to each other, gossiping about our antics.

Back at that time, Sungjong had been very stubborn. If he wanted a specific toy, he’d have to have it or else pandemonium would strike. Krystal and I always submitted to him; after all he was a year younger than us and we felt like we had to be the adults. Eventually, it had become a matter of habit and it didn’t bother us a bit that most of our prized possessions were stacked up in Sungjong’s bedroom.

Krystal was a sweet child, she was the apple of everyone’s eyes. She played delightfully and learned fast. And then there was me – I was quiet as a child. Introverted and shy, I didn’t have a lot of friends at school. Krystal and I attended the same school, while Sungjong went to a different one. But after school, the three of us met up and played. It wasn’t like I was a loner by choice, but honestly, I didn’t find playmates at school with whom I could be comfortable with. And I had this very bad habit of offending people. It was so easy for me to offend people, as if I was born to offend people. I swear I didn’t do it on purpose, it just happened.

At first I had thought every boy was like Sungjong and every girl like Krystal. But at school I found out there were less-stubborn, nicer boys than Sungjong but by that time I had grown so used to him that I didn’t like to play with the boys at school. And Krystal – there wasn’t a single girl like Krystal at school. The girls didn’t like the boys – they were going through the boys are aliens phase - I didn’t enjoy their silly doll games anyways. Krystal never played doll games with us. I didn’t view Krystal as a girl, or a boy, she was a friend, Sungjong was a friend, and that was the line between them and everyone else I knew. As a result, I ended up quite alone in my life, apart from Krystal and Sungjong of course, the only ones I didn’t offend. Or maybe I did offend them, but they didn’t care.

We grew up together and some things changed between us. When we were younger, we almost never fought but when we became teenagers, Krystal and Sungjong started to fight. They would argue, they would even have hand-to-hand fights. Sungjong was as stubborn as ever but Krystal, instead of giving in to him, would instead argue with him. It was too easy to strike up a discord between them.  It was up to me to mediate between them. But I soon found out that it wasn’t strictly necessary. No matter how hard they fought, they made it up the next day, acting like nothing had happened. I, on the other hand, never fought with them, I had no reasons to and they both made exceptions for me. It made me feel special, but it made me feel distant too. I didn’t know which feeling to believe in.

Now, looking back, it felt odd. Odd, but clearer. It was as if I was watching them, us, through someone else’s eyes. It was like a page from someone else’s life and I was intruding. I wondered if Krystal and Sungjong thought about it, thought about our childhood days and what had changed between us. Did they notice? Did it affect them as much as it affected me? I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to ask them, because if Sungjong and Krystal laughed at me for being a nostalgic fool, I couldn’t live with that.