Two little girls sitting attentively in their grade five class, hair parted and woven to the same side, school uniform exact same length, exact same brown leather sandals and white socks. They are almost a mere image of each other, although they aren't twins or even blood relative but they are best friends. These two little girls were my best friend, Talia and I. Back then we were know as twins amoung our friends, teachers and family. It was practically an impossible occurrence to hear her name uttered without mine next to it or vice versa.
Talia and I went to the same elementary school in Nigeria. She was the popular, peppy and bouncy girl all the teachers and students knew. I was the shy, awkward and gentle best friend who was popular by default. I got invited to birthday parties because everyone knew if you invited her, I also had to be invited. Talia and I, were a packaged deal, one did not come without the other. Talia and I did absolutely everything together, we hung out at the country club together, we studied together, learnt the multiplication table together. It seemed like the only time we didn't spend together was when we were sleeping at our own homes, because half the time we would be at each other's house on extended sleepovers. Looking back now, I don't believe back then and growing up that I ever met another set of best friends as close as we were.
However, the strength of our friendship was tested at the end of grade five. During the break after our grade five year my family went on vacation to visit my aunt in Canada, or so I thought. My little nine year old self was made to be under the impression that we only going to be gone for a couple of weeks but a couple of weeks has become eleven years. To me the move was sudden and unexpected and I was in now way prepared to be thousands of kilometers away from Talia.
My first couple of years in Canada were filled with tears . I would repeatedly cry myself to sleep night after night because of the sadness I felt from missing Talia and my family back in Nigeria. There was the numerous phone calls to Nigeria to speak with Talia. As we both grew older, worlds apart, the phone calls became less frequent, filled by awkward silences and the same five questions asked in a monotonous tone. The distance was taking a toll, still deep in my heart I would wish that someday somehow the impossible would happen. Our friendship would grow strong again.
And few more years, the phone calls were never made. I went on with my life thinking of Talia less and less each passing day. I started Junior High and then eventually High School, my life becoming increasingly hectic with ballet classes, Jazz classes and piano classes. Talia, would occasionally come to mind in the nighttime right before bed. I would wonder where she was, how she was doing and how school was going. As this was a period before popular social networking sites such as facebook I had no connection to Talia, all I knew was she was in boarding school. Our lives seem so different now, here I was in Canada going to school and there she was all the way in Nigeria in boarding school.
As the years grew, every time I would think of Talia the memories were less detailed and real, seeming almost like a story I was fabricating in my mind. I would fight it still wishing that someday we would see each other again. Slowing I stopped reminiscing, stopped hoping, stopped wishing, I began to let go.
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