it's important to have a "when i die, write my biography" friend

Just recently, I realized how I trust people and how they trust me back. I don’t build friendship with a sudden dump of information they need to know about me. Sometimes, it starts with the brand of my pen and the way I write. They would ask me why I prefer the HBW ATI Ballpoint Pen, and I would just answer them that I love how thin it writes on paper. Then the next day, I’ll see them trying it, saying they saw it from me and how clean their paper looks after using it.

Then the conversation will flow. From ballpens to our bias in second and third-generation K-pop groups to having Retrica and B612 filtered photos and passing me a copy of them through SHAREit (not to mention the Snapchat flower crown photos too); dancing to Gangnam Style together; joining the arts club; talking about summer jobs and small businesses that were never given a chance to breathe; and talking about teenage crushes that we didn’t know won’t matter after 10 years.

In between those moments, I didn’t know that I was gradually and constantly opening myself to people I once considered strangers. I was often misunderstood by my classmates, and I get it. During those times, I didn’t hate myself because I was shy and silent all the time. I hated myself because my face doesn’t communicate my intentions. I wanted sincere friendship, but my face would say, “Get out of my face; I don’t want to be associated with you.”

This month was my birth month. My friend gifted me this notebook, and I don’t know if my appreciation reached her because I feel like my reaction lacks the glee. But knowing her, and the way I constantly flipped the pages of it, I know that she knows how much I wanted it. Actually, it has been sitting in my shopping cart for months, and her giving me the exact design I wanted without even knowing it was the cherry on top.

I remember when we were in senior high school; she was also the one who bought a mini notebook, printed Seventeen members’ faces, and pasted them on each page. Honestly, she takes up the most space in my box full of memorable gifts I received, and no, I’m not here to complain—I’m here to say that it also mirrors how much she knows me. To think that she’s aware how I love writing and personalized gifts, I’d trust her with all my heart for writing who I am or who I was.

She would listen to my rants about how ruthless serial killers are in the episodes of Rotten Mango, like how I listen to her going down the rabbit hole about the actors in the latest BL series or movie she just watched. We would send random TikTok memes without minding the gray-colored streaks we have. We still remember how frustrated we were when Seventeen visited Calatagan, Batangas, and it’s the nearest Seventeen has been to us, but we got no money during those times, and if we’re being honest, it’s giving sasaeng energy, and I was thankful we didn’t push through that plan. (Please bear with us; we were only 15 that time.)

We trauma bond (the reason why we meet up sometimes), share the same dark and light humor; have different music tastes, but we meet halfway most of the time; watch each other’s movie recommendations; hate the same character; love fictional men; crave love at night; feel like independent women in the daytime; cry over a gut-wrenching line; and giggle at the most cringe dialogue we read. Sometimes, we joked around, saying that we might be long-lost twins, and maybe, in another life, we are.

So yes, as dramatic as I am, if ever I’m no longer here, I’d trust her to write my biography. Not just because she possesses the skills of an effective writer, but because she doesn’t have to do any research at all; she is the research. My life has been one of my favorite things to write about, but if she ever picks up her pen to take over, she’d be a co-author of my own book in a heartbeat.

Sometimes, when I wonder if I have been true to myself, I would be reminded of how people treat me back. Of course, there are some who would be a lesson, but there’s definitely someone out there whose sole purpose in your life is to stay. They will witness you in laughter, in downfall, in the way you gradually step up to things that once caused your fear—and just like that, they will be the one who matter the most in every celebration.

Finding connection in people has been a routine to me, but finding people meant to be my own crowd has grown into a habit I’d willingly nourish.

I am Cloud and I write personal essays, poems, and reflections about life in general. This piece is published under a section named “Cirrus” under my publication, “To all the words I couldn’t utter,” This section explores girlhood — light, fleeting moments of innocence, growth, and the beginnings of becoming.