My mom always told me that there were no such things as best friends. In her own way she made sure I understood that no one truly clearly unconditionally cared, except for her.
I was one of those girls that would jump at the opportunity of a possible best friend-ship. I literally thought things happen exactly like they did in the movies (yes, very original), and if a boy stares at you that way for that long it would inevitably mean it’s true love and it will last forever and ever and hand-holding a fierce kissing under stormy weathers, and your best friend would be your soul sister and crime partner and all that jazz.
Thing is when you’re a teenager, it does feel exactly like that, where you get your first kiss and you’re not as tall as he is and he’s got a lot of facial hair but you still feel like he’s your Channing Tatum and he’ll prove he loves you the right way forever in less than 1 hour and 45 minutes the way all the movies go, and you start repeating to yourself and trying to process that oh my God was that my first kiss and is that how lips really feel like?
Jumping off the overly emotional slow moving train, on to the fast-track of the girl I met in seventh grade. She wasn’t in my school but “fate” introduced us one night as all the Drama Comedies go and it went on for years after that. She was as fearless as I would have loved to imagine myself being at that time. She would lead and speak out and say things I didn’t understand but learned along the way. We were partners in crimes she mostly committed, but I would enjoy the ride the way you enjoy a fast car drive in a convertible, our hair was messy and we didn’t know where we were going but we couldn’t care less about the road or the hair. I learned what adrenaline meant and how it felt when I used to sneak out my parents’ house to go to the mall or hide the truth about meaningless things. This might have seemed like nothing but it colored my days and now it sums up my tweens. I experienced late night 90210s on MBC4 along with crunched hot Cheetos, a little secret sharing, some face-to-face bashing, a lot of Marble slab and occasional runaways. She was like no other friend I had ever met, my parents’ “bad influence” and my personal yesokayI’llsayit Bestie.
Either way we parted after years of infinite facebook chats and heart to hearts although our best friendship was very rocky at times. We weren’t inseparable but we always found each other every other day of the week, probably because her house was less than two blocks away from mine. We don’t keep in touch much now and I don’t believe in best friendship, but I believe in main friends. Basically the few people that sum up multiple years of your life. They’re kind of a reflection of who you were or who you wanted to be at that time.
Like the first friend that I’ve made, back when homework was coloring in my drawing book. We met and it was like a pan found its lid. She was my best friend before we even knew what best friends were. We never called each other that but we always knew we were the amazing. Year after year we were always in the same classes for another “fate” reason, where our parents got along and my brother was her brother’s friend. She was the first person that had ever slept over for a girl’s night in, and the first I had ever travelled with and got to be my true it’s-okay-to-burp-and-to-make-weird jokes-along-the-way self with. Then we parted countries and grew apart, but every time I go back all that changes is her hair. Her voice is still the same and her house still looks the same and we still laugh at the same things and remember the photographs because we don’t need to share secrets or gossip about anything except each other.
You’ve got another kind of best friend in another time lapse where you always have lunch together until you figure out how much she brings out the wild in you, and the other so talented-and-true kind of person that you want to showcase to the world, and the one you stood up for in front of everyone in class and the one with the endless skype sessions and the one that’s holding onto all your secrets over the phone and that doesn’t judge even if 99% of the rest are. They are main people that sum up little parts of your life, and out of all the people you’ve met, you’ll remember their names and yes, phone numbers even if they don’t live here anymore because they used to be number 1 on your speed dial at one point.