I've had many people slip in and out of my life over the years. Some people stay for a few weeks, and some of them last for years. I do think about them sometimes, but there's one person that always stays in the back of my mind no matter where I am, who I'm with, or what I'm doing. Once in a lifetime, you meet a person that truly understands. You meet someone that is a perfect foil of your favorite qualities in a person. Usually, when I drift away from someone, I accept it. Sometimes, it even stings a little to let them go, but I still find ways to cope with the absence of them in my life. However, there's someone that I lost years ago, and no matter how much time passes, I can't get over their loss. They were my other half: the greatest friend I've ever had, and probably ever will have. I met them in 5th grade, specifically when our seats were placed next to each other. We were both infatuated with drawing, even though they were leagues better than me. But more importantly, we both loved to laugh. There was never a moment when we weren't uncontrollably giggling at something, which was almost always an inside joke. We had dozens and dozens of inside jokes, enough to fill entire pages with nonsense. I didn't realize it at the time, but the memories I created with them were some of, if not the most cherished memories I have. I didn't realize that I would never feel companionship like that again, and I regret taking it all for granted. I also regret never expressing to them how much they meant to me. They were never the sentimental type, so I thought it would be out of place to get all sappy about our friendship. They have no idea that I still think about them a lot. They have no idea how much I replay our memories together whenever I need a reminder of how good life can get. They changed me for the better, and there are no words to express how grateful I am for that. By 7th grade, we had completely stopped talking to each other for multiple reasons out of our control. At the time, I didn't even realize that we had stopped talking. It all happened so gradually that I failed to notice. At first, only a few days of silence would go by before we struck up another conversation, but days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and when I finally realized how much time had passed since we had last talked, it had been almost 2 years. The time of my life when we were friends is still the time of my life that I remember the most fondly, and I'd go as far to say that they were one of the reasons why it sticks out so much in my mind. I was old enough to understand the world and what was important to me, but I was young enough to live without responsibility and feel truly free. It took me another couple of years to realize how much I missed them. I would still have fun with friends, but I was never as carelessly joyful as I was when I was with them. I would still draw, but without my drawing companion, I couldn't find any joy in it. A void had formed in my life, a void that was shaped like them. Of course, after we had stopped talking, I made new friends, some of which I've grown very close with, but nobody has ever compared to the 5th grade artistic prodigy I cracked jokes with at recess. I was never going to find anybody like them, and I accepted that. The past year has been really rough for me. The looming stress of college applications as well as numerous personal incidents has really impacted my mental health, something which has been considerably good my entire life. On one particularly bad night when I desperately needed human contact, I made the bold decision to message them out of the blue. I still had their number after 4 years. To break the ice, I messaged them one of our old inside jokes. I got a response almost instantly, and we had our first conversation in years. Suddenly, all of my yearning for the past and the feeling that it gave me melted away because I had the memory back that I longed for the most: them. The first night we talked was filled with laughter, so much laughter. I don't think I'll ever forget that night. Reconnecting with them has been one of the greatest decisions I've ever made. Ever since that night, I've been in such high spirits. I never thought I'd say it, but I have my friend back. I don't know where I'd be right now if I never made the decision to message them that night. The topic of “past friends” has always been elusive and misunderstood. We often think the worst of them. We believe that they must want nothing to do with us. We think of ourselves too much, and don't realize that people have the capacity to remember us just as much as we have the capacity to remember them. Your old friends aren't lost forever, especially ones that are only a message away. I guarantee that they'll be nothing but happy that you thought of reaching out to them, and who knows? Maybe they won't be an "old" friend anymore, maybe they'll just be a friend.

Ever since I was a little brat with pigtails, art has always fascinated me. My mother said I would draw on every surface I could find—from the cupboards to the dressers, to the TV screen. If it could be scribbled on, my tiny baby hands, barely able to hold a crayon, were all over it. When I finally moved on to actual paper, I would get lost in the worlds I created, inventing stories for the characters I drew. By middle school, I was the kid in the back of the class, sketching away to my heart's content. I remember one time, a classmate asked what I wanted to be when I grew up. Having no interests besides drawing, I told them I had no idea. They suggested, “What about those people who draw cartoons? You draw a lot, and you're good at it!” That comment stuck with me. When I got home, I went straight to our old Dell computer and looked up "people who draw cartoons," and according to Google, they were called "animators." Maybe it was the satisfaction of someone besides my mom acknowledging my work, or perhaps it was the realization that this could be an actual career, but I became fixated. I imagined myself working at a big animation company, sipping on my drink while doing what I loved most. Little me made it her mission to become an animator one day. I spent countless hours researching and watching tutorials on how to improve my art. My sketch pad was always with me, constantly trying to get better. But there was something missing. Every animation tutorial I watched featured a “drawing tablet.” Seeing this, little me wanted one desperately, but I knew I couldn't ask my mom for it. She was already working two jobs to support me and my three other siblings. I didn't want to burden her any further. So, I found ways to earn the money myself. I offered my drawing services to my classmates in exchange for cash, knocked on neighbors' doors to walk their dogs, and did chores for other people—I did everything I could to raise the money. Every peso I saved felt like a step closer to my dream. I remember the thrill of holding a crisp bill in my hand after walking Mrs. Garcia's dog for a week straight. It felt like victory, and I was convinced that nothing could stop me. My mom noticed my extra energy. She never asked why, but I could see the pride in her eyes every time I showed her the little money I had saved, telling her it was for my future. A couple of weeks went by, and my piggy bank grew heavier. I could barely contain my excitement when I finally had enough to buy the drawing tablet. I remember running to my mom, showing her the money I had saved. Just when I thought I was about to hold the tablet in my hands, life took an unexpected turn. My grandma fell seriously ill, and suddenly, every bit of money we had became crucial. Without hesitation, I offered my savings to help with her medical expenses. My mom was reluctant to accept it, knowing how much I had worked for it, but I insisted. My dream could wait; my grandma's health couldn't. The months that followed were tough. We watched over grandma, praying for her recovery. By some miracle, she got better, and we were all so relieved. Though my dream of owning a drawing tablet seemed further away, my heart was full knowing my Nana was okay and I had helped in a small way. When Christmas rolled around, I didn't expect much. We had spent so much on the hospital bills, I knew there wasn't much left for presents. But on Christmas morning, as we gathered around the tree, my mom handed me a box wrapped in bright red paper. I slowly unwrapped the gift, my hands trembling. I couldn't believe it—inside was the drawing tablet! With tears in my eyes, I looked up at my mom. She smiled and told me she had taken on extra shifts at work to buy it. That moment was pure magic. I hugged my mom tightly, overwhelmed with gratitude. She had always been my biggest supporter, and this was the greatest gift she could have given me. I plugged in the tablet immediately; the feel of the stylus in my hand just felt so right. My imagination had found a new playground. I was practically glued to my tablet, practicing my technique every day. As my art improved, so did my confidence. So, I decided to start sharing my work online, making connections with other artists and like-minded people. High school came and went, and I had my sights set on animation school. Although the road wasn't easy, I was determined. Today, as I sit in my college dorm room, going to my dream school, I often think back to those early days. The determination, the hard work, and the belief that I could make it all seemed like a distant dream. But it was real, and it was mine. I dedicate everything I have achieved and will achieve to my mom. My journey from a little brat with pigtails drawing on cupboards to a budding animator has been filled with challenges and triumphs, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.

“I'm looking for the thing that will fill the hole in my soul. I have everything— riches you will never comprehend. Men and women love me, the people want to be me, and I have endless companions. I can afford to adorn them with rare jewels and house them in my massive castle. I have a whole wing filled with wine older than my grandfather. I have a closet larger than town square. I have everything I want. “You have nothing compared to me. Your horse has one leg in the grave and my steed makes it look dead already. Your own home is crumbling and one day, it will crush you. The fireplace is more ash than flame and your carpet has withered. Your clothes are tattered, tarnished with the filth of a poor man's life. You survive, but I live. You will never understand my wondrous life. You clean up shattered pieces and try to save your life's wreckage but you will never be as close to this feeling as I am. But, how could you? You've been dealt a hand full of holes. You've lost. I truly pity you and these creaky floorboards and the crying ceiling and that moth banging on the windowsill.” The man goes to the window. Loving hands scoop the small creature and carry it to the door. He releases it and it flies to the sky. “It won't survive.” “Probably not.” “It wouldn't have lived much longer in here either.” “…“ “Why did you release it?” “Because that's where it wanted to finish life. In the sky, where it is free.” “I want to die embraced with warmth. The moth is a stupid creature, choosing cold over comfort.” “Why do you so strongly hate that which you cannot understand?” “I, well—,” “Do you want to feel complete? Think. Do you really have everything you want?” “What more could there be to gain?!” The man counts on his fingers. “Money, pleasure, friends, jewels— I have it all!” “Do you have love?” “Of course! I love tea.” The kettle is removed from the fireplace by the other man. He pours the boiling water into two cups, swirling crushed tea leaves. “I love my mother and father. I love my kingdom.” “Do you love yourself?” he asks while handing him a glass. “Of course…” The wealthy man pauses. “Well… What constitutes self-love?” “Self-love is not just treating yourself to your desires. It is to be confident, to seek validation from only yourself, to be virtuous, to know what you truly want.” “How will I know?” “First, realize the moth knows its wants better than you.” “Are you comparing your king to a moth?” “Second, realize you are just an animal serving its animalistic desires.” “Hey—“ “You need people to love you in order to love yourself. You lack the esteem to consider yourself lovable. You bring down others so you can rise up. You surround yourself in material value and gorge because you have no sense of reason. Your friends are slimy and they will leave you the second you cannot provide.” The man pauses his speech. He takes in the other man, glass in hand, eyes bent wide, brows furrowed. “You have to want to be good. Do good, spread good, follow your morals, be ethical. If you look deeper and inspect the waves of your mind, you will find completion.” The man drinks his last sip of tea. “I must leave.” He sets the cup down and the discarded tea leaves settle. “What will you do next?” He leans in to look and see the way the leaves have fallen. The man crosses floorboards worn from pacing feet. He takes a final look at shards lovingly collected and a carpet that has nourished. He grabs a copper handle that has worn away to gold, then opens the door. “I'll learn how to love.” He closes the door. In the stable, his horse has its head turned and resting on the back of the other. He gently wakes them. They exchange goodbyes and the man adds his fur coat to the blankets piling the aged horse, covering frost-tipped ears. They make it back to the main road. By now, the crowd has dispersed, and only the sound of wind and thumping gallops follow. The snow glistens from the rising sun, painting the man and his horse in orange and red. Something glows from the light on the horse's mane. He gingerly picks it up, delicate like glass. Its wings look shattered and broken, twitching as he cups it in his palm. “The moth died for what it wanted.” He leaves its body to rest in a bright place under the sun.

Beautiful tapestries woven with gold shimmer in the sunlight. Jewels sparkle with a million intricacies and purple flows along banners, finest of silk. Like rolling fields of golden hay, hills of treasure tumble to the floor. “A fine collection, your majesty.” “That diamond is lovely, your majesty!” “What will you do with it all, your majesty?” Asks the choir of envy. “It will complete me, of course,” the wealthy man replies. Countless women, as beautiful as Venus. They slide over each other, reaching out for the wealthy man. Countless men, as beautiful as Mars. They are adorned with diamonds and put on display. They are here for him, to serve him, “—To complete me, of course,” the wealthy man replies. A banquet table glitters with steaming pots of emerald kettles. Fancy leather chairs comfort his companions. They wear shoes he bought them, jewelry he purchased, even the clothes off their backs are from his wealth. “You all complete me too, of course.” The wealthy man smiles, but like a gap in his teeth, or childless mother, something is missing. Later that night the wealthy man lies alone in bed. “What am I missing?” he asks. “I have everything I want, everything I need— what else could possibly complete me?” He gets out of bed and stands next to the window. The glass is cold and he can see his breath from fog. He wipes the obscure away to overlook his kingdom. Hundreds of people, wandering his streets. Thousands more, tucked inside. They all have far, far less than him. Compared to his riches and wealth, their existence is nothing. They will never as close to completion as he is. Still, he grabs his red and white fur coat and stumbles into his boots. He rushes for the doorknob and glides down the stairs. Maids and butlers give him quizzical looks, but they don't understand. Tonight is the night he answers this question. His royal steed is woken by the weight of a saddle. He rides down snowy trails as knights shout his name and say he's gone mad. The horse trots into town. Turned up dirt is splattered over slush. Townspeople, his people, stare in awe as his coat flutters in the crisp wind. They eye his crown, the piece barely hanging onto his tousled hair. No guards, no armour, no sense of reason, and utterly defenceless. Filled with greed, the crowd inches closer. From the crowd, a man in rags pushes himself forwards. “Would you like to come inside for tea?” The poor man asks. “Will it complete me?” the wealthy man replies. “It will fill you for a moment.” “I've had enough of momentary bliss.” “Your horse is freezing.” “…” “I have a stable. Please, follow me.” The crowd lets them through and the wealthy man follows slow footsteps. He is lead into a dirtier part of the kingdom, where the buildings are squished and held together with chipped bricks and knotted wood. The “stable” is a tiny shack that is hardly big enough for the old, weathered horse already inside. The wealthy man dismounts and together the men shimmy the steed inside. The horses draw close together, sharing a tender embrace. The poor man tosses another blanket over them and the shivering slowly stops. “Let's get you some tea.” Inside he is greeted by a leaky ceiling. Dirt paints a carpet that has been eaten away by moths, leaving it hole-ridden and bleak. Shards of glass from a broken plate have been picked up and stacked on a rag, stained red from soft fingers. “Take a seat, I'll put the kettle on.” The wealthy man sits on a wooden chair and it creaks under his weight. It feels like a threat and another reason he's not supposed to be here. “What is this feeling you've been searching for?” The run-down house warms up as more wood is tossed into the fireplace. A dim orange glow lets him see the features of the poor man. He's smiling. Why is he smiling?

Growing up, Sarah always dreamed of making a difference in the world. She was the kind of person who was always looking for ways to help others, whether it was volunteering at the local food bank or organizing a fundraiser for a deserving cause. Despite facing numerous challenges and setbacks throughout her life, Sarah never let anything stand in the way of her dreams. She worked hard, studying late into the night and taking on multiple jobs to pay her way through college. After earning her degree, Sarah dedicated herself to a career in public service. She spent years working on the front lines of social justice, fighting to make the world a better place for all people. Through her tireless efforts, Sarah was able to bring about real change in her community. She helped to establish programs that provided meals to the hungry, housing for the homeless, and education for underserved children. But Sarah's greatest accomplishment came when she was chosen to lead a team of international aid workers on a mission to bring medical care and supplies to a remote village in Africa. It was there that she saw firsthand the transformative power of compassion and generosity, and she returned home with a renewed sense of purpose and determination. Today, Sarah is an inspiration to all who know her. She continues to work tirelessly to make the world a better place, and her efforts have touched the lives of countless people around the globe. Despite all that she has achieved, Sarah remains humble and grateful, always remembering that it is by working together that we can create a brighter future for all. Sarah's work did not go unnoticed, and she soon found herself in high demand as a speaker and advocate for social justice issues. She traveled the world, sharing her story and inspiring others to take action and make a difference in their own communities. As she spoke to groups large and small, Sarah's message was always the same: that each and every one of us has the power to create positive change in the world. She encouraged her listeners to follow their passions and pursue their dreams, no matter how big or small they may seem. Sarah's own dream was to establish a nonprofit organization that would provide ongoing support and resources to those in need. And with the help of a dedicated team of volunteers and supporters, she was able to do just that. The organization, called "Heart of Gold," quickly became known for its innovative programs and its commitment to making a lasting impact on the lives of those it served. Whether it was providing disaster relief to communities in need or offering job training and mentorship to young people, Heart of Gold was making a difference in countless lives. And through it all, Sarah remained at the heart of the organization, always leading with compassion, kindness, and a fierce determination to make the world a better place. As she looks back on all that she has accomplished, Sarah knows that her journey has just begun. There is still so much work to be done, and she is more committed than ever to making a difference in the world. But no matter what the future may hold, Sarah knows that she has already made a lasting impact, and for that, she is truly grateful. As the years went by, Sarah's work continued to grow and expand, touching the lives of even more people around the world. She was constantly amazed by the generosity and compassion of those who supported Heart of Gold, and she knew that it was because of their efforts that the organization was able to achieve so much. But Sarah also knew that there was still so much more to be done, and she was determined to keep pushing forward. She worked tirelessly, never taking a day off and always striving to find new and innovative ways to make a difference. And her hard work paid off. Heart of Gold continued to grow and thrive, and Sarah was able to see the positive impact of her efforts in the lives of the people she served. She knew that she was making a real difference in the world, and that was all the motivation she needed to keep going. As Sarah approached her 50th birthday, she knew that she had accomplished so much, but she also knew that there was still so much more work to be done. She had no plans to slow down, and she was as passionate and dedicated as ever to the cause of helping others. Looking back on her journey, Sarah knew that she had been blessed with many gifts and opportunities. But she also knew that it was her own hard work and determination that had brought her to where she was today. And she was grateful for every challenge and every setback, knowing that they had only made her stronger and more resilient. Sarah's story is one of hope and inspiration, and it is a reminder to us all that with hard work and determination, anything is possible. No matter what challenges we may face, we have the power to make a difference in the world, and to create a brighter and more compassionate future for all.

Jake and Fiona had been inseparable as kids. They were the best of friends and spent every moment they could together. They lived on the same street and went to the same school, and even ended up in the same class for most of their elementary and middle school years. When they were little, they loved to play dress up and have tea parties in the park, climb trees, and run through the sprinklers on hot summer days. As they got older, they started to explore their interests and passions more, and while they still had a lot in common, they also started to drift apart a bit. Fiona became really interested in art and spent most of her time drawing and painting, while Jake developed a love for sports and spent hours practicing and playing with his friends. They still saw each other often and would hang out when they could, but it wasn't quite the same as it used to be. When high school came around, they ended up in different schools and saw each other even less. They stayed in touch, but their friendship wasn't as strong as it had been. After high school, Jake and Fiona both decided to go to the same college, but they ended up in different dorms and had very different schedules. They ran into each other from time to time, but it was usually just a quick hello in passing. One day, they ended up in the same study group for a difficult class they were both taking. At first, it was a little awkward since they hadn't spent much time together in years, but as they started working together, they realized how much they still had in common. They started to hang out more outside of class and their friendship picked up right where it had left off. As they spent more time together, they started to realize just how much they had missed each other's company. They laughed and talked about everything, just like they used to when they were kids. They even started to do some of the same things they used to do when they were younger, like having picnics in the park and going on adventures. Before they knew it, Jake and Fiona were the best of friends again, just like they had been all those years ago. They were each other's support system and were always there for each other, through the good times and the tough ones. As they graduated college and started their adult lives, they knew that they would always be there for each other. They had come full circle, from being the best of friends as kids to drifting apart and finding their way back to each other as adults. They were grateful for the time they had spent apart, as it had helped them grow and discover who they were as individuals, but they were even more grateful to have each other in their lives again. They were a team, and they knew that they would always have each other's backs, no matter what life threw their way.

Disease. Disasters. Destruction. Mass fear. Sounds great, doesn't it? Welcome to my world. We're in the middle of a worldwide pandemic like nothing we've ever seen before. Businesses are closed, shelves are cleaned out, if they're smart most countries have made gathering in groups of more than ten people illegal. Schools have been shut down, most, if not all international trade has been canceled, 1 in 5 households have had reduced work hours, if they are lucky enough to have any at all. There have been Millions of cases worldwide with nearly 600,000 deaths. Not surprisingly, most people have been told to avoid all unnecessary human contact. Makes sense, right? So, with school and work canceled, and the very strong encouragement to stay inside your house, what do people do? Not that, of course. Trails, and parks are more crowded than ever before. It's only been a week and people are sick of sitting cooped up in their houses, but you can't really blame them. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not exactly perfect either. I've been out of the house a couple of times too. The problem I have with that is safety. It's obviously safer to stay in your house, and not socialize. That doesn't stop some people though. Now, it's not all bad news and stupidity. There is an amazing amount of good in this world too. You'd think that earthquakes and quarantines would drive people farther apart than they already are, either from distance, fear, or brawls over toilet paper and the last jar of peanut butter, and while those things have happened, it couldn't be further from the truth to say that the world has seperated and abandoned each other. Walmart and other major shopping centers have donated areas of their parking lots for testing. Businesses that are closing for the time being are donating their extra toilet paper and hand sanitizer. A distillery in Portland has started making and giving away hand sanitizer. Google and Microsoft are paying their employees even though they aren't working Authors and artists are making daily videos to help teach kids, museums are giving virtual tours, theaters are giving free online shows and ballet lessons. Adobe is offering free services, Amazon is giving RAISES to its workers in the midst of this. Police officers are parading down empty streets, singing for the people stuck in their houses. Those same people are singing together, helping to ease the fear that is so prevalent. Families are growing closer, we are learning to appreciate the loved ones that we can't have in our lives right now. For a while the #1 most trending video on YouTube was a message of hope from the prophet of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. The president of the US, a man renowned for being, less than spiritual, declared March 15th a day of prayer for the country, alongside a beautiful proclamation that quotes scripture and feels as if it came from a religious leader There are smaller things happening too. As they walk by each other on the trails and in the parks everyone smiles and waves at each other with joy in their voices. People are sitting on porches playing guitars to all the people walking by. There are chalk drawings with messages of hope drawn all over, people are having conversations on the sidewalk in rainbow colors. Silly pictures have been taped to windows all over my town, putting a smile on the face of anyone who walks by. Dozens of texts are coming asking nothing more than “How are you? Is everyone you love doing alright?” We're calling each other, just because we miss each other and want to see faces and hear voices again. So, if you're feeling down. If you're sick of being stuck at home. If you just want to hug your friends again, if you're hurting because of all the darkness and terror everywhere, because there is a lot, even before this happened, just remember: It is not all bad. It's been said before that war brings out the heroes in some and the monsters in others, and if we look through that lens at all those people who gave what they had, it's safe to say that our world can be pretty great when it wants to be. People rose up in this crisis, and donated time and effort and money to help each other. Look at all these examples of love and service, and that's without even talking about the people working tirelessly to end this disease. If you need more, just Google it. I found most of these within 3 minutes. I guess what I'm trying to say is this. I'm sick of it too. I need people in my life. But the key to happiness is you. You can choose to be happy no matter what is going on in your life, and the best way to do that is to try and make others happy. So, do that. Talk about positive things, check in on the people you love, draw those sidewalk chalk pictures, sing those songs, write those stories and watch what happens. Spread the love that you have, the love that you want, the love that this world needs. Because that, is how we make a difference in this world