“Hi, my name is Shyrlyn. I am 17 this year. I joined this class because I love to sing and want to do it even better.”

It might be in Chinese, it might not be the exact wording. But the essence of her introductory sentence I remembered was simple, plain and direct. It spoke for her, and the rest of us.

This name, so commonly pronounced, yet so uniquely spelt. Yes, she certainly lived up to her name, being a unique friend to many.

She started the ball rolling, in any way possible. Be it this introduction, be it volunteering to try for some vocal exercises, her zest and energy grew in us, infecting the class like some contagious viral airborne germ. If the entire class had great chemistry, she must have been a greater catalyst.

On a faithful Friday, she brought the class out to supper. The journey was filled with laughter, and her confusion. She’s just being herself: laughing about almost anything while trying her best to navigate in Chinatown. Finally, we started our first Friday supper. Fast-forwarding the timeline, prata soon became a weekly staple. The Friday supper was a perfect bridge between a hectic week of school/work and the start to a great weekend. The supper club became bigger after a merger of two classes and it went on for years. A simple calculation would give a conservative 78 sessions (I estimate 1.5 years) of supper. If it wasn’t her initiative, the class wouldn’t have had so much fun and bonding within these 78 sessions.

It was through these 78 sessions I got to know her past. It was intriguing in a way as it was nothing like the norms of the social circle I was in. At a young age of 17, my most difficult times in my entire 17 years of living were probably some trivial examinations. At that young age of 17, she’s been through so much more life impacting dilemmas. Although younger, I’ve always talked to her as though she was an equivalent. At times, I did get confused as the level of maturity and mental strength she exuded and exhibited was simply beyond amaze.

She was truly an infectious one. I mean, who can forget her most ringing sound other than her singing voice? It was her unparalleled laughter that led to the birth of ‘Taipei 101’ joke. It was her laughter that reinforced the ‘stingray’ joke. It was her laughter that made all my lame jokes possible. I’m not the best joker in the world, yet she gave 100% support each time through her signature ‘highness’ and laughter. It showed so much she looked at things in the most optimistic perspective, even finding happiness in the most trivial jokes.

She was the greatest caretaker. Potato salad, tiramisu and pi-gu looking sushi that was meant to be a heart shape. She loved to cook, but she loved to share her cooking even more. Her extra effort in maintaining and appreciating this bunch of friends was felt beyond the lesson, beyond her presence during every supper.

Then things changed. From a close friend, I was subjected to more pressure from school and the friendship between Shyrlyn and I drifted at an exponential rate. From regular chatting on MSN, I didn’t even appear on MSN. I did miss the days in OB, but heavy amount of school load allowed me to conveniently push my friendships and days I’ve had in OB into my memory bank. I resigned to thinking those were good times that couldn’t be retrieved.

The last outing, again, even though it wasn’t my choice, but I placed my career assessment test above this outing, thinking that I would just need to appear in the next outing. If I would have known it would be the last time we could get together with Shyrlyn around..

But there’s no ‘if’s in life.

Her departure made me reflect a lot. How did I allow a close friendship to dwindle to such a point? To a point I was asking Regina what was she busy with before her departure? I didn’t even know if she’s working or studying. And I didn't even get to meet her when she was in her short hair. I know nothing about Shyrlyn for the past year. Nothing and no news, until this news.

So friends, stop blaming yourself for not being a good enough friend because a worse friend of hers is writing here.

She made me realize with a hard awakening that I’ve let so many other friendships slip past me just like that. She made me realize that I need to treasure those I really care for. And I do hope we carry on what she believed in, maintaining this bond that we share.

Though physically it is already impossible to hear her laughter or see her smile, the power of our mind would constantly remind us of how she would optimistically laugh it off cheerfully. Let’s learn from her and face the toughest moments in life with a laugh. And whenever we did, we make sure it is so high that it’s always higher than Taipei 101.