I love driving on the Anzac Bridge. It brings a sense of swift happiness whenever I cross, with my windows down, my music up, and my bad singing. I love it the most when I'm alone, so I can just enjoy the atmosphere undisturbed. Unfortunately, this sensation only lasts while I'm on top of the bridge, but thankfully, it leaves a hint of a cool, fuzzy feeling when I reach the bottom.
In mid 11th grade, my best friend and I skipped school and roamed the city. I remember it as one of the saddest times of my life, and I needed a break from school. Despite feeling down, we enjoyed the day out with each other; she was my partner in crime - I wouldn't have survived senior school without her. Our petty boy troubles seemed equally real back then, and no matter how far we tried to run, they found us. We finally accepted that time would heal all wounds and blasted our misery away in a game of Time Crisis II.
We stood outside the QVB, and I told her to look up at the sky. We noticed two flags on top of the Metro Woolworths building. I asked her to take a mental picture of that sight, to think about how dreadful life was at that moment and to remember that day. Thus, in happier times in the future, we would return to that exact spot and appreciate that the present bad memory would then be of the past. We made a promise to return to that unhappy place together, as soon as we were ultra-happy.
Maybe it's time to revisit and smile up at those flags, to show them how blissfully happy I am now. It's bittersweet because she is no longer in my life to share this moment with me. I hope she remembers the promise to visit our place, and I pray that she's happy with her life, too.