Once upon a time, there lived a guy called Jack.
He had a good friend, E. The two friends had to walk their own paths. Still, Jack hoped he could one day see E again.
Jack was an artist. He said he wanted to follow his dreams, but everyone he talked to merely made fun of him. Just before they separated, he shared his dream with E, half expecting E to tell him not to do it.
But instead, E told him something unexpected:
He could always find a normal 9 to 5 job, but whatever happiness he got from that would only be partial.
Jack didn’t understand what E meant, and the two bid farewell.
Jack did his best to find a normal job. But somehow, his path deviated, and he began to follow his dreams instead. He started his own studio. It was rough.
He was backstabbed, gaslit, and, being an idealistic person, taken advantage of by countless people.
At one point, he got into a brutal legal dispute that nearly brought his studio down. Then his studio got hacked and lost almost everything.
Yet somehow, he persevered.
Whenever something bad happened, he would find himself wishing E were around. Still, he believed that whenever they next met, he would have roller coasters of stories to tell.
And then he made it. Somehow, he achieved the kind of success very few people ever do.
He carved a name for himself and was now living the very dream he told his friend about all those years ago. He couldn’t wait to share it all, from the highest highs to the devastating lows.
Every year, he reached out.
But there was nothing.
Still, he didn’t give up hope. He continued to work hard, believing that one day he would get to share all his adventures, and hear what his friend had been up to too.
“You won’t believe my life,” he snickered.
But with each passing year and no reply, he began to wonder if he was simply hiding from the truth.
Just before 2025 ended, he reached out one last time and prayed. For the first time in his life, even though he didn’t believe in higher beings, he prayed. If there was ever a time to see his friend again, now would be a good time.
But nothing came.
As the new year rolled around, he remembered looking out at the stars. Once the fireworks faded and the silence took over, he wondered what E was doing at that exact moment, if he was somewhere out there looking at fireworks too. He hopes that if he is, he’s enjoying himself.
Perhaps he finally realised that deep down, he knew. If E was even around, it was unlikely they’d see each other again. E had likely moved on with his own life.
And it was time for Jack to move on as well.
That should have been the end of the story.
But Jack made a mistake.
One day, Jack was at a low point in his life. In a state of emotional weakness, he went to look up snippets of conversations he had with his friend.
He was surprised at how much E shared with him. Personal stuff and vice versa, he shared things he never told anyone else. He was touched by how much his friend trusted him.
He had forgotten how it was like to be around someone he could trust deeply. He smiled at the simpler times and jokes only they’d understand. As he kept reading, he reached the part where they discussed dreams.
And suddenly he sees the quote. The quote that he thought was from some random internet poster was not actually a random internet quote at all.
It was from E.
“You can always find a normal job, but whatever happiness you get from that will only be partial.”
It was from before he followed his dreams. A time when everyone, even himself doubted him.
He chose the toughest road possible.
His studio should have died multiple times.
And yet there he was, following those exact dreams, dreams not even himself believed he could follow.
Jack remembers saying how he would never start his own studio when E brought up the idea. He wasn’t sure if his friend was serious, but now that he’d actually done it, it hurt that he would never get to tease him back about being right.
Sometimes when it’s late at night and I’m all alone, I look out my window.
At the stars. I would wish he were still around, so I could ask him:
“Hey, remember what you told me all those years ago?”
“I did it. I did the thing you said. I followed my dreams.”
“I wish you were around to see it too.”
I wonder if he would be happy for me. Or maybe even proud. I don’t know if that’s weird.
I wish I could know how you’ve been, and to share the crazy journey.
He would never believe a single word simply by the sheer absurdity of the stories.
—
You know, I put something in my game. Something he would recognize.
I don’t know if he plays indie games, but I sometimes like to fantasize that maybe he finds the game, buys it. He sees the thing and he’ll instantly be able to tell it’s me.
Maybe something stirs in him.
And maybe one day, I see a message, an email, a comment. But of course, it’s been years. If it was to happen, it would’ve already happened.