I sometimes wish he was my best friend. During those times when we are walking in the street and he would suddenly do something crazy making me laugh out loud and hard. During those times when we would start playing little games like Finger-wrestling, Find the word and Hangman while waiting for our lunch or the bus. During those times when he shares a secret no one knows about and when I tell him about my secret dreams. And especially during those times, when he shows me his childhood photographs and tell me his childhood tales.
But he has almost 7 best friends or more. And I have none. 5 of his best friends are my close friends already. We chat if not talk almost everyday. Joke around, tease each others. Besides them, I have a Caretaker, a friend who takes care of me when I’m sick and have mood swings. A Human Diary, a friend-cum-brother with whom I share my almost everyday happening which sometimes get boring, but come on, diaries are like that. A soul sister – someone who goes through similar things like I do at similar times from pmsing to mood swings to dilemmas. A silent whisperer – a friend who understands what I want to say with my silence. A day-to-day life wala friend, we talk about career, life and other casual but important topic. An inspirer, who makes sure I come back to my dream of writing wherever I am. And a fairy godmother, whom I go to every time I need a break.
But I don’t have a best friend. It’s not that I need one. I already have tons of friends with me, each looking after a part of me. But sometimes, I wish I had one as a whole. One who has been there since I was a kid or at least few years. And I wish it was him. But in someway it is him too. Somehow he plays the role of all the ones I mentioned above. He is the one I go to every time I need to relax. He calms me down by singing me songs in his guitar with or without words. He encourages me to fight my inner demon and helps me be free. He collects the pieces of my shattered dreams and helps me to revive them. He tells me everyday stories and I do the same. He makes me laugh when I all I wanna do is sulk around and complain. He makes me do things I don’t want to do because he believes by experiencing those stuffs, I will be able to be a good writer one day. He inspires me to write happy stories and makes sure I grow with each post I write. He knows exactly what’s going on in my mind whether I am being silent or talkative. He makes sure I put my dreams first.
But still, I wish we had known each other or seen each other long before we finally did. Well, we might have passed each other a lot on buses and places, because Kathmandu is a small place. But I hadn’t been to his part of the town when I was a kid as long as I remember. And I’m not sure if he had been to mine. On the other hand, we must have passed each other a lot before we actually met. We did smile at each other one day without knowing each other (I, blurting out the fact in his face and then running feeling embarrassed) long before we talked with each other or even knew each other. That’s another story for another day.
Yet, I still wish we were best friends since we were a kid sometimes. Despite knowing each other for almost 3 years, I’m sure I would have enjoyed more memories, doing silly stuffs in the middle of the road, throwing tantrums in the middle of the night and much more. I would have like that. And maybe he did too (cutting the tantrums part, that is).