You remind me of this girl I used to follow on the internet. She was funny, bubbly and smart. She died two years ago from osteosarcoma, which is a bone cancer. Nostalgia hurts. It opens up floodgates of memories and the emotions associated with those memories. Nietzsche said forgetful people are lucky because they can enjoy the same things many times, and also that they are the only people who can truly forgive. But when someone with a bad memory all of a sudden recalls something, probably triggered by a sound, a sight or a smell, then the nostalgia really hits like a ton of bricks.
So you remind me of this girl. You have the same hair, facial structure, you smile the same way. You don’t know her. She wasn’t anybody famous. She was just normal and ordinary. She wanted to be famous for her art, but her illness struck that dream down. She made movies, small daily slice-of-life types. There was one where she was dancing in her backyard, jumping and doing somersaults. Another one was just her in her room talking about her favorite movies and directors. She really liked Quentin Tarantino movies. She did a few videos re-enacting famous scenes from his movies. She also liked to draw. A video showed a time-lapse of her sketching in pencil on paper a profile of Willem Dafoe. It wasn’t bad. She can definitely draw. She could have improved.
I sit here on a faraway table from you inside this badly-lit cafe, thinking if the similarities between you and her go beyond the appearance. I wonder about what kind of books you read, what movies you watch, what you like, what you hate, what you fear. What makes you laugh? I am thinking if you meet her in person what would you two do? What kind of things would you talk about? Maybe you two wouldn’t like each other. Maybe you two would be best friends. Who knows.