My Best Friends.

Someone who I consider to be my best friend is someone I never should have been friends with. I played with fire because I believed no harm would come to me. And no harm did come to me. I was right. I met someone who taught me so much about the world, the other parts of the world that I’ve never been privy to or understood. I reached my hand over into the darkness and allowed an incredibly dark person to lead me in. And then I pulled us both out. I won’t ever, ever, ever forget him. The only thing I want for him is happiness and healing and forward movement.

My childhood best friend is someone who I’ve known almost my entire life, whether we were friends or enemies at various points in our lives. I would never say I “worry” about him, because I know he can care for himself and figure things out for himself. I was finally, after more than a decade of friendship, shared my darkest secrets of him before I moved away from the beloved neighbourhood we both shared for the last two years. And I think we walked away from that as better, more understanding people. The person I grew up with, I have come to know, as one of the smartest, funniest deepest people in my life, who has gone through hardships and bullying and segregation I could never imagine.

My best friends from university are the best girlfriends I could ever ask for. They’re so drama-free, girl talks are not something we ever shared when we first knew each other; the beginning years of our friendship were filled with child-like trolling and stupidity and laughter, and later in life we grew into deeper and more introspective women. There was a time in my life when I thought I didn’t need those girls, but I do, and I did, and never truly realized just how much I love them. Even after over a year apart,we can consistently pick up where we left off. It sometimes just takes the following of another path to realize how much someone’s friendship means to you.


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