Angel's heart
A memoir (only semi-autobiographical). I miss you, Angel Blonde.
I found heaven at 11 sharing bunk beds with Angel Blonde. She was reckless and intense and loud and just straight out of a movie. I loved her as soon as we stepped on the train together going to the same summer camp 8 hours away from our starting point. To Angel’s misfortune, it took her over a year to grow into liking me back. We couldn’t remember that train ride more differently from one another… She loved telling people how she didn’t like me at first after we grew up and became inseparable for a while. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more me than I did with her hand over mine. That kid knew something more about the world and when I was with her, I could feel it too.
Heaven looked like the most ordinary low-budget vacation spot in a niche and generally unattractive lake town, but I don’t know it as such. I know it by the cold of August’s early mornings, I know it by the most intense smell of the summer heavy rain, I know it by the saltness of my tears when it was time to say goodbye. You could think that I will always feel the cold, that the smell of the rain isn’t unique at all and that I will cry a million times more in my life but you don’t understand that that place was just different. And all these things seem to haunt me even (or especially) now, 10 years later.
The last time I saw Angel was over a beer about three years ago in my hometown. We were different at this point. We both grew distant towards essentially the whole world around us, I guess that’s just what happens when you’re a dramatic teenage girl and your feelings keep screwing you up. That’s what we really bonded over back in 2014, though. This story is one of my favourite memories I have of Angel because that’s the exact moment when I saw her as essential part of my life. She was, in a way, my growing up.
It was towards the end of the summer camp, maybe day 8, when we were woken up in the middle of the night by the counsellors for a secret game. It was the night of the fireflies and we were supposed to be running around the whole resort chasing them and trying to catch at least one in a jar. The most entertaining part at that age was probably the fact that we were doing it so late, around 1 AM. Angel and I stood together in the line while the counsellors were going over the rules. I wasn’t paying much attention to be honest. There was a younger girl, maybe 8 years old, stood next to me who was staring me down. I didn’t know her but apparently Angel did from some earlier activity when they were put in the same group. After a few more seconds the little girl tapped Angel and said she wanted to ask her a question.
- What do you want to ask about?
- It’s about your friend - the girl looked at me.
- Then ask away - I said with a smile.
- I wanna ask Angel.
- Come on, just ask the question - said Angel.
I don’t remember the exact wording of the question because as she said it out loud, my heart was racing and my head started spinning. I realise how unserious it is now but at 11, that shit stung… She asked her if I was a boy or a girl. I had a shoulder length bob, longer than I have it now, and wore maybe slightly tomboy-ish clothes - usually denim shorts or skinny jeans with a bigger t-shirt, nothing crazy. I know she was just a kid and probably didn’t know better so I tried not to hate the girl, but I was only a kid too and forgiveness is a lot to ask of an insecure 11-year-old. I sprinted back to our room sobbing. Fuck, it really hurt. Angel ran right behind me trying to calm me down. I was crying so loud and really wanted to be left alone, I didn’t want anybody to see me but she stayed with me regardless. You have to understand this would have never happened to her. Angel had a soft, girly face with cherub cheeks and light blonde hair down to her waist. I don’t know how she was able to handle me in that state so well and how she was so understanding despite her complete strangeness to this whole experience. She told me that it doesn’t matter and that I do look like a girl and she was many other really nice and reassuring things. She was nice to me. She wasn’t usually. Our friendship was mostly based on teasing each other and joking around, it wasn’t soft, definitely not that soft. Despite her efforts I wasn’t feeling any better. That’s when she opened her backpack and took a pair of scissors out of it. She handed them to me and said completely seriously
- Cut my hair.
- I’m not going to cut your hair, stop it.
- I’m being serious, cut it.
This exchange went on for a little longer and it successfully brought me back down on earth. I tried to explain that it wouldn’t change anything and I don’t want her to suffer just because some kid unknowingly said something mean to me.
- If you won’t do it, I’ll cut it. - she threatened
- Angel, seriously, stop.
- I’m doing it.
She went in for the biggest chunk of hair and I stopped her right before she was going to chop it off.
- Ok, let me do it! Not so much!
- You will feel better - she promised.
I cut off a pretty long but thin strip of hair from behind her ear and after I handed the scissors back to her she cut a few more all around. I was speechless. It didn’t make a huge difference but still, it was insane. I couldn’t believe she actually did it. Without an ounce of hesitation. Now I know this is exactly what to expect of Angel.
We went outside after that just to enjoy the lateness and the quiet. We sat in some secluded place by the lake, completely ignoring the game that made everyone else’s night. I remember we talked about everything that made us sad or angry or passionate. Some of these things we have not confessed to another person ever before. We just sat there and said them one after the other, staring at the bright moon and listening to each other’s responses.
I still do that. I still talk at the moon and I keep searching for her answer everywhere. From that one night I know for sure that there are things only kids can realise but I can’t stop chasing them anyways. I taste heaven in my tears and feel her presence in the shivers but it’s all just a lonely memory of a beautiful place outgrown.
Angel had a child’s perfectly wild heart and without her I feel like there’s no testament of mine.
Heaven looked like the most ordinary low-budget vacation spot in a niche and generally unattractive lake town, but I don’t know it as such. I know it by the cold of August’s early mornings, I know it by the most intense smell of the summer heavy rain, I know it by the saltness of my tears when it was time to say goodbye. You could think that I will always feel the cold, that the smell of the rain isn’t unique at all and that I will cry a million times more in my life but you don’t understand that that place was just different. And all these things seem to haunt me even (or especially) now, 10 years later.
The last time I saw Angel was over a beer about three years ago in my hometown. We were different at this point. We both grew distant towards essentially the whole world around us, I guess that’s just what happens when you’re a dramatic teenage girl and your feelings keep screwing you up. That’s what we really bonded over back in 2014, though. This story is one of my favourite memories I have of Angel because that’s the exact moment when I saw her as essential part of my life. She was, in a way, my growing up.
It was towards the end of the summer camp, maybe day 8, when we were woken up in the middle of the night by the counsellors for a secret game. It was the night of the fireflies and we were supposed to be running around the whole resort chasing them and trying to catch at least one in a jar. The most entertaining part at that age was probably the fact that we were doing it so late, around 1 AM. Angel and I stood together in the line while the counsellors were going over the rules. I wasn’t paying much attention to be honest. There was a younger girl, maybe 8 years old, stood next to me who was staring me down. I didn’t know her but apparently Angel did from some earlier activity when they were put in the same group. After a few more seconds the little girl tapped Angel and said she wanted to ask her a question.
- What do you want to ask about?
- It’s about your friend - the girl looked at me.
- Then ask away - I said with a smile.
- I wanna ask Angel.
- Come on, just ask the question - said Angel.
I don’t remember the exact wording of the question because as she said it out loud, my heart was racing and my head started spinning. I realise how unserious it is now but at 11, that shit stung… She asked her if I was a boy or a girl. I had a shoulder length bob, longer than I have it now, and wore maybe slightly tomboy-ish clothes - usually denim shorts or skinny jeans with a bigger t-shirt, nothing crazy. I know she was just a kid and probably didn’t know better so I tried not to hate the girl, but I was only a kid too and forgiveness is a lot to ask of an insecure 11-year-old. I sprinted back to our room sobbing. Fuck, it really hurt. Angel ran right behind me trying to calm me down. I was crying so loud and really wanted to be left alone, I didn’t want anybody to see me but she stayed with me regardless. You have to understand this would have never happened to her. Angel had a soft, girly face with cherub cheeks and light blonde hair down to her waist. I don’t know how she was able to handle me in that state so well and how she was so understanding despite her complete strangeness to this whole experience. She told me that it doesn’t matter and that I do look like a girl and she was many other really nice and reassuring things. She was nice to me. She wasn’t usually. Our friendship was mostly based on teasing each other and joking around, it wasn’t soft, definitely not that soft. Despite her efforts I wasn’t feeling any better. That’s when she opened her backpack and took a pair of scissors out of it. She handed them to me and said completely seriously
- Cut my hair.
- I’m not going to cut your hair, stop it.
- I’m being serious, cut it.
This exchange went on for a little longer and it successfully brought me back down on earth. I tried to explain that it wouldn’t change anything and I don’t want her to suffer just because some kid unknowingly said something mean to me.
- If you won’t do it, I’ll cut it. - she threatened
- Angel, seriously, stop.
- I’m doing it.
She went in for the biggest chunk of hair and I stopped her right before she was going to chop it off.
- Ok, let me do it! Not so much!
- You will feel better - she promised.
I cut off a pretty long but thin strip of hair from behind her ear and after I handed the scissors back to her she cut a few more all around. I was speechless. It didn’t make a huge difference but still, it was insane. I couldn’t believe she actually did it. Without an ounce of hesitation. Now I know this is exactly what to expect of Angel.
We went outside after that just to enjoy the lateness and the quiet. We sat in some secluded place by the lake, completely ignoring the game that made everyone else’s night. I remember we talked about everything that made us sad or angry or passionate. Some of these things we have not confessed to another person ever before. We just sat there and said them one after the other, staring at the bright moon and listening to each other’s responses.
I still do that. I still talk at the moon and I keep searching for her answer everywhere. From that one night I know for sure that there are things only kids can realise but I can’t stop chasing them anyways. I taste heaven in my tears and feel her presence in the shivers but it’s all just a lonely memory of a beautiful place outgrown.
Angel had a child’s perfectly wild heart and without her I feel like there’s no testament of mine.