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Rated: E · Essay · Writing · #1708924
Meeting new friends opens up a whole new world.
“My best friends: Pen and Paper.”

by Bikerider

Friends come and friends go. Like the seasons, the tides, and the phases of the moon, they move on with their lives, sometimes taking you along, and sometimes, not. The memory of them lingers, causing nostalgic thoughts that bring comfort, and sometimes pain. But I have recently found new friends, they are a couple, Pen and Paper, and have been together for a very long time. They are not like most of my other friends. Pen and Paper seem to have a lot to say, and are rarely quiet. But when Pen speaks, it is in a whisper, as her soft lead leaves its mark on Paper. Paper is always clean and fresh, somewhat introverted, but always open to new ideas. They are always ready to listen to me, even if they don’t always hear me. While they sometimes leave for short periods of time, they always find a way to return. Pen and Paper are my best friends because they allow me to write.

As I get older, and my memory fades, my friends allow me to remember. They help me write about friendship so I can remember the name of a friend I knew. I can look at something I wrote, and find a friend there laughing, flying, playing…or grieving. My friends also love to travel with me. When I can’t remember a place I’ve been, or what it was like to have been there, Pen and Paper show me a story I wrote, one that we contrived, so I can visualize my adventure again, and again. Pen and Paper show me hope. When my memory can no longer conjure the emotions I felt when I held my granddaughter that very first time, Pen and Paper show me a tear stained page that reminds me what it was like to see an angel. When I can no longer visualize my beloveds face as I heard her say the words, “I do,” my friends show me my emotions in a story by an elusive author who wrote of love, while hiding in my computer. When I stack all that I’ve written, I see it as a delicate heap of papers, laughing with joy, crying with friends and whispering secrets, while shouting of love, and screaming about injustice. My friends, Pen and Paper are on top of the stack, ready to do it all, again.

My friends are with me when I’m lonely, introducing me to new friends that won’t forsake me. And when I’m happy my friends introduce me to people I can share my happiness with. My friends help me to learn, and help me to teach. Pen and Paper know I have so much to say, and that so few have time to listen. My friends know I can’t photograph emotion. The awe of seeing the sadness of a grieving mother, or the innocence of a child’s trust, can only be felt in my heart. My friends allow my heart to speak.

My friends remind me that there are those who cannot see this world; they know I love the sight of the sun, the moon, misty mountains and tranquil lakes, and the deep blue of the ocean. My friends are noble, they help me show that world to those who can’t see it. My friends, Pen and Paper, have reminded me often that my time here is limited, and, “if I don’t write, how will anyone know who I was?”

It is my best friends that allow me to point out injustice, endure loneliness, and overcome sadness as they show me into their world. A world created by me and my friends, Pen and Paper.


Word count 624 (including title)

September 11, 2010

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