Day thirty; Story thirty

Through the ups and downs, highs and lows, the smiles and the tears, our shoulders have been there for each other no matter how dark the night got. It was the kind of limerence you couldn’t find in those cliché novels and movies, it didn’t turn into a ridiculous love story about two best friends, in fact it ranges from fits of anger, pain, randomness and every once a month- hormones. We’ve just seen it all.
It’s neither his story nor mine, it’s ours. Every moment belongs to us and the bond that we share simply can’t be understood by anyone else.
We’re best friends, and not ordinary ones too.
We are acquainted with the images we portray to society and friends with what happens behind the scenes. We’ve kissed and anticipated each other’s moves and never let it come between us, we’ve laughed for hours and given each other headaches with endless rants, it’s a wonder how we even tolerate each other sometimes.
There was a time in our friendship where I used to be his junior (which I still am) and he used to look for excuses to talk to me because he for some deranged reason thought I was hot. He told me he used to look for excuses to talk to me or maybe even touch my hair, and the weird part is, we barely even talked back then. Years later, there came a stage where I desperately wanted us to end up together, I guess it was because of all those movie expectations of best friends falling in love and everything and considering he’s the only guy who has ever been able to handle my tantrums and dramas and still love me. Nevertheless, I think it was established long ago that the kind of friendship we have, we can’t really put it to risk. Not for something as silly as a relationship. Our friendship means so much more than that, I see why people (more specifically his girlfriends or my let’s say future boyfriend) would not want us to be close, I mean let’s face it, who wouldn’t be insecure if their significant other had a best friend of the opposite sex who they talked to about every little thing and shared as weird a history as ours, someone who made them laugh and cry and knew all their moods and someone they loved more than themselves. I’d be lying if I said it wouldn’t bother me, then what of someone who’s actually there?
There’s a certain happiness that only talking to him gives to me, even when he calls in the middle of the night in a little boy’s voice saying,” I don’t feel so good”, to me calling him for every little thing that happens to me like, “I got waxed! Oh my god I’m like as smooth as a dolphin” and from me saying “I hate that girl because she makes you happier than I do” (following which he always has to console me), to him saying “you are never talking or meeting that guy ever again”, his random bitching about people I don’t like and taunting me about that guy I liked, to fangirling about hot footballers with me. He’s my all time constant. He’s just so different, you know? And I know us girls have a tendency of saying that about most guys that are even remotely nice to us but he’s someone I am so sure about. So yes you’re darn right I’m possessive about him, he’s “my” best friend. Is that clear to everyone?
I can pretty much write a novel about our friendship if need be, I mean all those silly bets that mean the world to us, and those little declarations of love for each other, those rare moments where he actually tries to be sweet to me *rolls eyes and flicks hair* , those late night jokes and laughing for no apparent reason, it just all has to be recorded, because if there’s anyone I would want to remember forever. Anyone I would want to grow up and tell my children about, it’s him.
And so when I called him saying “Hey! I really want your story for my blog” and he said “You know everything, just post what you like most”, following which we couldn’t decide for days what part of his story means a lot to him and we could post as a part of the project, and he said “how about our friendship?”…and it was the most perfect idea ever, because nothing, could ever even come close to being this crazy, messed up, weird, hopeless and beautiful chaos that we are.

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Img src: Google images

4 Comments Add yours

  1. Last one but for sure the best one I read. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  2. arkcov9 says:

    I’m a possessive kind of best friend and she’s not but still cherishing our bestfriendship. By the way, I love this story 😀

    Liked by 1 person

    1. So am I, completely and entirely. Thank you so much

      Like

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