Tag Archives: Food

The friend that I have

I have a friend, we have been friends for a very long time. We started off as people who didn’t like each other, became best friends, had the ‘infamous’ fallout in 8th grade ( right out of a book,eh? ) , the drama, the tantrums, the fights and then we grew up ( I, a little and she a LOT ) and now we are friends. Friends is maybe a term too mild to construe what we have, but I’ll go with it for the time being.

We are very different, poles apart some may say. Born on the same day  ( Alas! different months) our set of principles is almost opposite to each others’. She sleeps early and is up early and I’m up all night and I sleep in all day. She is super skinny, I have them thunder thighs She is hardworking and does everything on time, I procrastinate till the eleventh hour and then hurry through. She knows it all- the people, the things, the places; I’m clueless about everything, even the time when I’m wearing a watch. She is really smart, and even more hardworking. I’m smart, but then I’m a lazy ass. She knows what she wants, I know what I don’t want. She is selfless, and I’m selfish and self centered (and horribly so! ) She doesn’t drink, smoke and I drink like it’s my birthright and smoke (occasionally! ) despite my asthma. She can speak in front of people, she is a leader through and through; I lead too but I can’t speak in front of people, I do the work backstage, the invisible but can’t-do-away-with help. She loves kids and wants to go to other third world countries and do things for them, ( I wanted to do that ) but I’d rather travel the world, Forget about the real-issues and just meet new people or make six babies 😛

She wakes me up on weekdays, because she is up and she can’t let me sleep; despite knowing I’ll go back to sleep the moment I hang up. She wakes me up, after she has been to her classes and comes home just to come with me to the doctor because I’m a “fart” and generally by the time I wake up, the doctor is long gone. I make breakfast for her, when it’s time for lunch and she spends 4 hours cleaning my disgusting cupboard, begging me to throw my old clothes ( which have a lot of sentimental value, in my defense) out, to make space for new ones! She buys birthday gifts for me months before my birthday, scolds me when I don’t study before “the most crucial exams of my life”, has faith in me when I don’t, makes me smile when things seemed to have come to a halt, stayed up with me the whole night during my eleventh grade finals because my boyfriend broke up with me, buys food for me when I’m upset, brings me coke and chicken because I’m hungry, fights for me, fights with me. She is the only one I’ll tell how could or bad my sex life is. She takes me to the dentist when I break my teeth, slipping on the bathroom floor when drunk.

She doesn’t judge me, neither does she lie. She knows everything. She knows everyone. I called her up the moment he left the room, She knows that I don’t believe in marriage or relationships, she has a beautiful relationship with the wonderful guy and their relationship is the only one I believe in. She wants a wedding, wants to get married one day and have a family. I don’t want to get married or stay in a place for too long. She saves me from self-destruction. I destroy everything- intentionally or unintentionally, she saves me from it. She brings out the good in me, She lets me dream, she lets me sleep in, she lets me be. she forgives my wrongs, or rights them. She listens to me, unlike the world who are waiting for their turn to speak. I’m careless, she picks up the little pieces I lose on the way and puts them back. She is honest, she is real, she is scary ( sometimes). She makes me question things I take for granted. She forces me to do things which I don’t want to, but end up relishing. She is funny, smart and always there. she is one of the bravest people I know. She is the person I call when I’m drunk, despite knowing that she’ll kill me the next morning.

A few days back I had the worst asthma attack in the history of bad ones, I had a silent chest and was unconscious. I thought I was dead, It was quiet and I couldn’t move or feel anything around me. She was one of the people I saw, I thought of in that state. I saw her there, smiling at me in her lace dress and I though I was dead. One of things that I learnt that night was that come what may I need her there.She sends me cryptic messages, we are weird together. We talk about things which you wouldn’t talk about with another person because it’s weird. She is my friend. My confidant.I don’t tell people everything, I’ve too many secrets. She and himself come to closest to the person I’m under the facade I put up everyday. Himself ignores that person and she embraces it. She comes home, just to say hi to me and give me a hug and then goes her way and I look for coke for her, when all the shops are shut down in the city, and end up buying 7up ( which I like!). We are like Grey and Yang from grey’s anatomy! Even though I hate meredith, I’m weirdly like her ( she likes grey) and She is a lot like yang ( though not as cold, she is much nicer and I think yang is kick-ass, and she doesn’t like yang). We are dark, twisted, weird and messed up. Dreamy and the dreamers.

When I grow old, and if I settle down she’ll be the one spoiling my kids, while I’ll be the one taking her kids out for their first beer and their first rock concerts ( she feels claustrophobic!) While I grow up, smoke up, waste my time, mess around, sleep with people, act like a bum; she’ll be the ideal daughter, doing the right thing the right way. She has to balance things out, right? My ma has hooked faith in her. I have immovable belief in her.

She likes coke, I like sprite. She sounds really polished and grown up, I sound like a 2nd grade Delhite, She reads I read. She writes when she’s sad, I write no matter what. She makes me happy, she lets me dream, she is my saving grace, my yang. She builds, I break. I leave, she stays. She laughs, I smile. She cries, I fight. When my mood swings, she is the reason I’m sane again. I can never thank god enough for her, I can never thank her enough for the person she is because despite my infinite flaws, and issues she doesn’t go, she doesn’t give up. I love her, I love her so fiercely that it scares me sometimes. We can survive without each other, we have our best friends and our lives, but for me everything else falls into the background when we are together.

Himself might be the love of my life, but she is my soul mate.

I love you , to the stars and back. 🙂

 

For what it’s worth.

I was watching a soap today, and a character in it said this little something which hit me hard, in the face. She said “I really… I really miss him. I want to tell him that I still love him. But I open my mouth and nothing comes out. And everything is terrible.”.

THIS thing that she said, unfortunately for me I understood exactly what she means. Day in and day out, whether wide awake or half sleep, whether driving or walking himself is always at the back of my mind. It has been a year, since we broke up (or he broke up with me) and I did move on (almost) But I did not. I have not budged from the spot where he left me. We are friends. Buddies. Mates. Whatever you want to call it. We’ve had a few “moments” when drunk, and a few “moments” when sober but that’s about it. I care about him, I really care about him and so I’m obnoxious when around him, instead of being cool, calm and composed or whatever that he is looking for. We talk regularly, have the same set of friends but he doesn’t care. And I can’t mash it down, what I feel for him and neither does he care.

He keeps telling me that I talk too much, or I’m imposing or I overact so on and so forth, which makes me feel like sheer unadulterated crap but i talk to him despite all this. I wonder why does he tell me all this, Why should he even notice my behaviour? and then I realize maybe I’m so annoying that he can’t help but notice how horribly stupid I am and How I end up making a fool of myself, everytime. everywhere. So I try to talk less, be less imposing and try to bring the change.

I know I sound really daft, ( I probably am too) but he is this super rational, really great guy so when he says something like that, I suppose it’s right because he isn’t the kind to talk unnecessarily ( I do that though and how! )

Anyway, I miss him. I miss him so much. I miss the way he smelt, my fingers in his hair, his hands, the way he’d play the guitar, that look on his face while listening to/ playing/ making music, that half smirk of his, the conversations, I miss him so much and there are times when I want to run to him and tell him all about everything and instead I don’t move and wave at him from a distance. There are times, while standing next to him, I smell him by chance and all these things come rushing back and there is so much that I want to say to him and I open my mouth with the scripted conversation in my head, but end up talking about something as trivial as the plan for the evening. Sometimes when he walks past me, I can’t breathe. I don’t mean metaphorically, I physically can’t breathe.

I miss what we had, because despite having been with a lot of guys I never had something like that. I could never talk about everything. All In all I miss him. I never thought it was possible to miss someone who is right there, so much. But it is. No guy can ever match up to him, because he put me up at a pedestal (and kicked my ass). I’m a stress eater, I eat A LOT When I’m stressed but when he starts hitting on these girls and goes out for drinks, I can’t. Eat. I feel like puking. I can’t sleep sometimes, I spend hours thinking about him. I know I’m being foolish and It’s time that I move on, I know all of that, But it just isn’t Happening. He happened when I was busy making plans, and now the plans have long dissolved, and he is long gone but I’m still here.

If he were a bad guy, who was abusive or nasty or a cheat, I’d convince my self that he isn’t worth the time and the energy, but the fault lies in me. I screwed up and always screw up. It’s this inborn talent, I have. I fucked up and ruined things but I tried. I tried so hard to put it back and get him back and tried to explain things, I tried to fight. I still am fighting for him, for us, for what we were but I don’t have any hope because in my heart of heart I know that it’s done. He’s done.

They say, “never give up, fight for what you want”

I’m fighting, I’m fighting so hard. I’m fighting myself too, and the universe refuses to notice the difference. It’s more of a need now. He makes me feel better even now, in this strange place he is home. He makes sense, when I can’t talk to my mother or my best friend and still takes my crap occasionally and reminds me constantly of my dream and tells me that I can do it, when I cease to believe in myself. He’s amazing, occasionally. Maybe because he has no choice. Maybe he thinks he’s obliged to do so. Maybe he is basically a decent soul.

He is my buddy. friend. Mate.

But he is so much more.

I open my mouth, trying to tell him, trying to explain, trying to not look like i’m trying too hard, trying to understand why, trying to do so much.. but I do nothing, I say nothing, I explain nothing, I understand nothing I just stand and smile at him and the universe, and try to remember how he smelt and do nothing…. and everything is So terrible.

But I’ll fight and try some more. Maybe some day. For what it’s worth.