Make a wish when your childhood dies.

    I know what you're thinking. It's what we're all thinking today.

    One year.

    It passed. It actually passed, and I can't forget that, I can't let it go, because it'll always be there. March 22^nd. It's not being as bad as I thought, I'll be honest about that. The MCRmy, and especially my close friends, are helping a lot. Me and two friends of mine were holding a fanfic contest this month, for the brazilian part of the fandom. We spent the last two weeks reading and judging all kinds of stories, and then last night we were up 'till 3am to pick a winner. Today, the first thing that came to my mind wasn't "one year". It was "we'll post the results!", because people were expecting it, and they would get happy, and we made everyone's day better, include ours. Even though it's hard, everyone I know is trying to make it easier on one another, and that's why – no, you have to understand – that's fucking why I can't leave this fandom. Not now, anyway. No matter how much shit I've seen happening around the internet involving that band, there are always those precious little fuckers who make it all better. And I love every single one of you for it.

    But I made a post about this day weeks ago, so I'll post it here, too.  

    xx

    You know what else I got myself thinking about this month, besides the obvious? Friends.

    You know, Friends, that TV show that everyone has heard about, or watched at least one episode.

    So. Friends. Or, to be more specific: ten years without Friends.

    Yes, 2014 is the 10 years' mark with no Rachel, Ross, Phoebe, Joey, Monica and Chandler. And to think about that, now, made me realize three things I never really bothered to pay attention to before. But to talk about them, I need you to visualize what that 10 seasons' show has meant to me.

    Friends always brings me my best memories. It makes me feel my childhood revitalized. Because I fondly remember the days and days I spent in front of the TV, with my mom, watching one or two episodes at once. I remember doing that when I was 7, 8, 9 years old. It's funny, 'cause I couldn't quite understand every joke, but it would still be the 30 minutes that I would laugh the most in that day. And you know what else? That show was one of the main bases to make me learn English. Actually, even to make me learn how to read, now that I think about it- I watched it with subtitles, of course, and I was kinda forced to read faster if I wanted to get everything they were saying. Friends was the reason I became one the best readers in my class, and the reason why I was ahead of most kids in English, at least for a while.  

    But enough about the educational part, because Friends was not just my childhood: it was also my adolescence. Years later, I watched it all again, one episode per day, everyday. It was a simple routine; get back from school, grab my lunch, eat in front of the TV. And it was good. It was easy, it was consistent, and most of all, it made me laugh. Always- no matter what was happening in my life, no matter how pissed off I could've been after school, those 30 minutes were still what made me laugh the most in the entire day. Even more now, that I could actually understand the jokes (and also appreciate the lack of aggressiveness in them; even when playing around with stereotypes, Friends was never aggressive towards any group, and I consider that a big plus on my growing up. After all, want it or not, when I was seven I was already familiar with a lesbian couple – who had a child -, a drag queen dad, a porn writer, an ex-street dweller, and the list goes on. Neither I nor my mom had any problems with any of those characters.)

    But like everything else in life, Friends was over. On the first time, me and my mom cried over the last episode as if someone had died. It's a fact that crying as a kid is easier, but that wasn't the point. And I know it, because years later, when it came the time to watch the end again, I cried again, in a much more restrained way, but even more painful. And it doesn't matter how many times I watch that damn episode, I'll always cry. It still happens after ten years, it'll happen after ten more.

    However, the world hasn't ended. Which brings me to those three things:

    1- they will always be part of my life;

    2- I still laugh everytime;

    3- the pain of the goodbye doesn't really end, but gets better.

    Yes, watching those six people that were with me for so long placing their keys over the counter and leaving still hurts. Yes, listening to 'The Light Behind Your Eyes' still hurts. Yes, seeing Chandler and Joey trying to free their birds from the foosball table still hurts- even if it makes me laugh at the same time. Yes, watching certain interviews with MCR still hurts- even if it makes me smile at the same time.

    And it will hurt, and you will cry, and that's okay. Missing it proves it matters. And I don't care if it's a band, or a show, or whatever. Only you knows what matters the most to yourself, and only you know your own pain. So don't be afraid to show it, or face it.

    Once, six friends had to move on with their lives.

    So can you.