Why I will never understand

Anny drew occasionally in her notebook, but more often than not, she wrote careful, thoughtful words, evenly spaced, each letter flowing into the next. These words though, were never about herself. She would contemplate, and I could see her trying to work through her obstacles, brows furrowed, her eyes staring intently into empty space until she came to a conclusion. Every quiet day would be followed by a content one, and all of her concerns would be redirected to those she cared about, her family, her friends.

Is a model student. Works extremely well in groups. Gets along with and helps her classmates.

She would walk down the hall, arm in arm with her best friend. She watched, wide-eyed, to Spirited Away, though she must have seen it half a dozen times already.

Willing to put in effort to improve. Has the ability to excel.

She lived across from us, in the boarding students dorm. I startled her once by eating in their cafetaria. Sweet and sour chicken with white rice. We chatted for maybe thirty seconds, and then I said that I would see her the next day. She smiled, and said goodnight Mr. Wong.

Is sure to get better in the next semester. Considerate and selfless.

I'm sorry Anny that you won't be able to become the person that you were supposed to be. I'm sorry because you should have had the chance to do anything everything whatever you wanted, though in the end you would have cared more about others than about yourself like always.

I'm sorry Anny because I don't know what else to say, except that I will never understand.


...