Life is a Rubber Band

Harro. I have returned. Why have I not posted for 4 months? I’ll bet my black socks that you wouldn’t care for my excuse, so I will not dwell on it. The important thing is that I am back and I am hoping to keep up at least 1 post per week this summer!

There is something that I have been avoiding talking/thinking/writing about for almost 1 month now, and I think that it is now time to get it out of me.

On a particular Sunday in May, I lost one friend to the icy cold waters of a creek in Vancouver. It came as a great shock to me, not because we were close friends; in fact, I can’t say that I knew him too well. But when I found out, I could hardly believe it because I had just seen him earlier that day. It was the day of a city marathon that we both took part in as members of a UBC group team. He arrived a little late, and I even helped him pin his bib onto his shirt. After the race, the majority of the team lost contact primarily due to different finishing times and the insane amount of people. He was one who finished the race very soon, but much later, he must have decided to cool off in the creek.

Life is a rubber band. When we are brought into this world, we are like a new rubber band, fresh from the rubber band factory. We are slack and loose without the many experiences from life. As we grow up, we stretch more and more as life presents us with more opportunities to learn, grow, make mistakes, experiment, and achieve goals. Some people stretch less; these are the people who are afraid of trying new things. Some people stretch more; these people are always interested in the many aspects of life and are ready to experiment. Some people stretch slowly; this is characteristic of the cautious. And some people stretch quickly; these people grasp opportunities with hardly a second thought and dive into action. As we get older, the rubber in our rubber band starts to age from time and wear-and-tear, getting harder and more brittle. Eventually, we snap, regardless of how we protect ourselves from stretching and harm. But sometimes, our rubber band is ripped apart before we become hard and brittle. Perhaps we have been stretching too quickly or too much.

I think his rubber band had the tragic case of being stretched quickly and too much. Or maybe it wasn’t so tragic after all. He was a very active individual, a free soul. I regret to say that I did not get to know him very well, but I can say that wherever he was, the sun was always shining. He was the most carefree, curious, confident person I had ever met. As a rubber band, he stretched in all directions that I could never dream of reaching, and consequently, I’m sure he experienced much more than I may ever will. And it was just this nature of his, that I envied sometimes, that took his life in the end.

The world is at a loss because we can now only imagine what this young man would accomplish. But we can be certain that he left this world being true to himself and who he was, and that is something to be proud of.

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