Back in high school, my teacher once asked us, "If you could be someone else, who would you want to be?"
My 14-year-old self instantly thought of a famous singer who writes sad country songs, or a badass action movie star who has roles of saving people, or a lawmaker who pushes a bill for equality, or even a president who worries so much about the economy—someone whom the world know of and could make a huge difference. I was young and of course, i wanted to impress everyone with my clever choices. I was young and i wanted to save everyone.
Now i'm 23 yet i still admire the same singer and the same action star, and i still doubt lawmakers and presidents. I am now 23, still young, but the difference is, i no longer want to impress and save everyone.
If I could be someone else, I would want to be the manager who interviewed me for my second job. I would tell myself that she is in the wrong room; that she needs to be where her heart is. I would tell myself to never be afraid of failing and disappointing everyone just because she decided to finally choose what makes her happy. I would tell her to choose herself first before anyone else. I would tell her to write this.
If I could be someone else, I would want to be that stranger i met at the club. I would dance with myself at an equal enthusiasm and rhythm. I would hold her hands and, together, we'd drown with the music in that dark place where we found hope and real company. And when she'd close her eyes and touch her chest like how we do when we sing our national anthem, I would kiss her. Oh yes, I would kiss her and I would carry her home, wipe her tears away, and sing her old songs until she falls asleep.
If I could be someone else, I would want to be my first love. I would tell myself this isn't the worst yet; that i am just a preparatory stage of something that would shake her faith in men, in people, in love, in God. I would tell her everything she needs to know about assholes and how they roll to make her life a living hell. God, i would fucking tell her that the second and the fifth are going to tear her apart.
If I could be someone else, I would want to be my 40-year-old self. I would tell the young adult me to not worry too much; that she's going to make it despite the bullet holes in her body; that all her sacrifices and heartaches paid off; that eventually, everything will make sense. I would tell myself right now that i am somewhere i've been dreaming to be at.
If I could be someone else, I would want to be someone who could have saved myself.