I’d first like to say her name. Khayla Rose. And Khayla…Rose.
I like to imagine her as a flower. In the months before the accident, she had just begun to bloom into a young lady, her elegant petals of personality that were filled with ideas and spunk were really opening up. Khayla was one of the funniest people I knew. The jokes she was constantly cracking made my day, and by being able to joke around with one another, our bond continued to grow stronger. She was awed by the world around her, and everything about the flower she was awed the world.
Potential. The creative, mental, emotional potential within her was incredible. Khayla once said to me and I quote, “I don’t think about marriage as much as how my kids might be. I think my main goal in life is to be a good mother and have a good family.” I don’t think she would’ve been a good mom. I know she would have.
Khayla was my best friend then and is my best friend now, although we are separated for the time being. She and I had a truly special friendship. We understood each other so well, and I felt like I could talk to her about anything and receive comfort, advice, support, and definitely lots of laughter. We spent hours just planning and planning and planning about all the things we’d someday do. Our similarities brought us together, and cousin telepathy was something we ended up joking about everyday because we’d always text the same thing at the same time. We were a dynamic duo that was ready to create and travel and take on the world together, hand in hand, side by side.
A couple years back, I asked her if she’d rather be the moon or a star. And she said a star. I had previously ordered two friendship rings – one was the moon, the other a star. In the days following the accident, when our family was driving back home from some place far, I looked out the window. And it was as if the heavens were speaking to me, comforting me, telling me that it was okay, that’d no matter what, we’d always be together. In the sky, the moon was shining radiantly, and about a few inches from it, a single beautiful bright star was shining. In the fading twilight in which we drove, there was not another light in the sky than those two.
I’d like to quickly say something I’ve realized about time and relations.
Now exists forever but doesn’t last for any amount of time. Time slips out of our hands every second, only to be replaced, and to slip once more. It is a constantly moving bullet train. And as far as we know, it won’t ever stop.
Not unless we are able to be truly alive in any given moment. In order for it to be meaningful, we must live Now. Treasuring the moment makes up for the human inability to travel back in Time and the inability to see the Future. You get to stay right with that plausible second hand.
It is so essential to recognize all the most important assets of our lives while we can. It is crucial that we partake in actions that lead to happiness – happiness in the brink of the moment, and happiness when looking back on the moment. We must recognize those we have precious relations with so we can protect the bond we share. We never know when those precious figures will no longer be with us.
Without her in my life, the days feel a little empty. The absence of being on the other side of a text or Snapchat is…painful. But her presence can always be felt, her heart parallel with mine. And that is enough to remind me everyday of the golden moments we shared. I am able to look back on what was once Now but has slowly morphed into Then. I am able to feel those seconds as if they can come to life at a moment’s summoning. And that is the power of being sincerely alive in every given moment – my memories are as crisp as newly fallen autumn leaves, waiting for footsteps to descend and wake them back up into my mind.
Khayla and I were so great at living in the Now. We held on to moments longer than they held on to us. We were able to stop time from racing on without our consciences. We were able to not be in the Past or the Future. In the absolutely priceless moments we shared, we were able to become one with Time.
So Khayla, my darling, I hope you are able to find peace and happiness where ever your fate has taken you. I hope and know that you are always with me, yet in the farthest place from me at the same time. You are on the other side of the line, but one day I will join you. And we can frolic through meadows together, hands intertwined, with flower crowns on our heads and satisfaction in our hearts – we can laugh and talk and catch up on the years that we were separated for. You’ll tell me about all the things you met and experienced and came across while wandering the universe, and I’ll tell you about my family and my life and of course, all the “drama of the day”. One day we will be side by side, talking of bathing suits and designing clothing and laughing about stupid, random inside jokes about gay carrots and whatnot. We will watch over our loved ones on Earth, and we will melt into the sunset like we planned to do when you were 25 and me, 26. One day our friendship will be reunited, and I will taste what it feels like to be truly content. One day, we will be back together.
Khayla,
I love you forever.
Madison Choi