Mizuki was at her desk, listening to the radio in her room when she heard a faint knock at her door. She opened it to find Yuko Matsunaka standing there, dressed in tight polo neck and jeans. I’d like to talk with you, Yuko said, if you have time. ‘Fine,’ Mizuki said, frankly taken aback. ‘I’m not doing anything special right now.’ Mizuki had never once had a private conversation with Yuko, just the two of them, and she’d never imagined Yuko would come to her room to ask anything personal. Mizuki motioned for her to sit down, and made some tea with the hot water in her thermos.
‘Mizuki, have you ever felt jealous?’ Yuko began.
Mizuki was surprised by this sudden question, but gave it serious thought.
‘No, I don’t think I ever have,’ she replied.
‘Not even once?’
Mizuki shook her head. ‘At least, when you ask me out of the blue like that I can’t remember any times. Jealousy… What do you mean?’
‘Like you love somebody, but he loves somebody else. When there’s something you want very badly, but somebody else just grabs it. Or, there’s something you want to be able to do, and somebody else is able to do it with no effort…Those sort of things.’
‘I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way,’ Mizuki said. ‘Have you?’
‘A lot.’
Mizuki didn’t know what to say. How could a girl like this want anything more in life? She was gorgeous, rich, did well in school and was popular. Her parents doted on her. Mizuki had heard rumors that on weekends she went on dates with a handsome college student. So how on earth could she want for anything more?
‘Like what, for instance?’ Mizuki asked.
‘I’d rather not say,’ Yuko said, choosing her words carefully. ‘Besides, listing all the details here is pointless. I’ve wanted to ask you that for a while—whether you’ve ever felt jealous.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
Mizuki had no idea what this was all about, but made up her mind to answer as honestly as she could. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever that sort of experience,’ she began. ‘I don’t know why, and maybe it’s a little strange if you think about it. I mean, it’s not as if I have tons of confidence, or get everything I want. Actually, there’re lots of things I should feel frustrated about, but for whatever reason, that hasn’t made me feel jealous of other people. I wonder why.’
Yuko Matsunaka smiled faintly. ‘I don’t think jealousy has much of a connection with real, objective conditions. So that if you’re fortunate you’re not jealous, but if life hasn’t blessed you, you are jealous. Jealousy doesn’t work that way. It’s more like a tumor secretly growing inside us that gets bigger and bigger beyond all reason. Even if you find out it’s there, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. It’s like saying people who are fortunate don’t get tumors, while people who’re unhappy get them more easily—that isn’t true, is it? It’s the same thing.’
Mizuki listened without saying anything. Yuko hardly ever had so much to say at one time.
‘It’s hard to explain what jealousy is to someone who’s never felt it. One thing I do know is, it’s not easy living with it. It’s like carrying around your small version of hell, day after day. You should be thankful you’ve never felt that way.’
~~~HARUKI MURAKAMI
****
Nobody lives a perfect life on earth. While it is healthy to look up to those above us and aspire to emulate or at least level up with them, let us not forget that there are those who are below us—those that reminds us to be grateful we are not living a hard life the way they do. We must be thankful for everything God has given us. Let not jealousy eat us from our core, because before we know it eats us wholly until nothing has left of us.
If there’s one person I can metaphorically tag as a friend since we were still zygotes inside our mothers’ wombs, that would be Lily. Our fates crossed when we were six years old, during our Kindergarten graduation practice. I remember her as the chubby, curly-haired little girl who owns the Chinese garter I attempted to borrow. Little did I know that we would be glued to each other until adulthood. Our friendship is not a perfect one, we had our fair share of squabbles (lots of them I can’t even count with my fingers and toes) nonetheless we still survived. We were classmates until high-school until I had my academic shortcomings although we went to the same school until college pursuing the same degree. Those times we were classrooms apart in high-school, I recall she would call me in the middle of my class just to hand me a heart-shaped colored paper with the words: “Take Care, I Miss You!” signed with her name on the bottom 
(her trademark is a spiral-shaped sun that comes with a macaroni-shaped rays, or sometimes a deflated heart. Hehe.) . Since grade school, we always go to school together (we used to be neighbors) and go home together. We never ran out of topic to talk to—mostly about her boys. However, we’re not the kind of friends who are exactly alike. In fact, we are quite the opposites. Physical law of magnetism truly applies to us. She’s more of the talker while I’m the listener; she’s the life of a party while I’m a flower vase; she a fashionista while I slip into whatever comfy clothes I have in my closet; she loves socialization while I’d rather settle into the solitude of anything readable; she jumps to the showbiz section of the newspaper while I stick into the front page; she loves loud color while I choose quiet colors; she's the talk of the town while I live a quiet life..Hehe... In spite of our characteristics collision, we also have our numerous commonalities—more on the way we think. We share the same principles in life and somehow, some interests. Now that I’m academically one-step behind her, I follow her tracks and try to avoid whatever mistakes she stumbles into. In other words, she serves as an example to me. Cheers to a lifelong friendship! Mwah! 
Nuts kung nuts. A good friend told me that only a courageous man can wall off that barrier surrounding me. I don’t know, sometimes I wanna experience that kilig of your own story, not by others. I think they're different. But when an individual knocks, I slam the door shut and conclude to myself that I am not ready for anything. I am hurting people, I know.
I am hurting also, so that’s fair enough. Hehe. I am hurting because I hurt them. They’re hurt because I never give them the chance to break into that wall that envelopes all that kilig emotions in me. 
