“You know why we are still best friends?” she asked pouring me another cup of tea.
“Why?” I asked without even looking at her. “Because we are entirely different.”
I gave out a short laugh and agreed to her. When I met her 10 years ago, anyone could have seen that.
She has always been a crowd puller, a tornado of ideas, a whole bunch of crazy. I, on the other hand, am a loner of sorts, a quiet, almost invisible presence.
“I would agree on that, but then how did we manage to remain friends despite that?” I wondered out aloud. “Because what we are to people, we are exact opposite to each other. With you I like to settle down. With me you open up.”
It is strange how we know each other so well.
It is even stranger that she knows me. I have been so careful to be quiet around people,
I have been so careful about blanketing secrets inside my heart.
I have been so careful of being soft, warm rain for others.
And yet before her I speak words I never would have spoken to another person. And yet with her I open the treasure chest and let her know. everything.
And yet with her I lay down all my storms and all my wreckage.
“I imagine how you’d react when I am in certain situations even when I very well know you’d be polite, and sensible and I will make terrible jokes only to be elbowed to the corner by you.
But then we’ll talk about it later and I will look at you like you are funniest person ever.” she continued.
“that I am. no doubt no doubt no doubt.”
“Stop all the Brooklyn nine nine references, I haven’t watched it yet!”
“How are we even best friends…” we wondered out aloud for the nth time in the last ten years.
— how are we even best friends