i say, happy birthday! and it seems a bit different this year. the first year of our three year long friendship that we aren't at the same school. we only see each other once a week now, and everytime i reach out to you otherwise you always seem to(more) be busy. it's odd, i was supposed to be the one destined to go farther than you, but now you're the one too busy for me. whenever anyone asks me who my best friend is i always reply with your name, but do you still respond with mine?(less)
Why do we not see each other as much anymore? When we do, we wave and smile and say "Hi!" but - what is lacking? My grin seems forcibly sewn onto my face as I watch you disappear at the other end of the hallway, swallowed up by the(more) crowds of people - each chattering or rushing to some unknown destination.(less)
what is this? it feels like a standardized test or
a college application. if you could talk about whatever you damn well pleased
you would not name your essay "my best friend" -
instead you would talk about the time you twinned on spirit day and it was(more) a total wash
or when you went to a pep rally to spy on a boy and were too chicken to talk to him.
the essay wouldn't really be about
your best friend: it would be about
the small moments of your friendship, and those would be far more telling than
My Best Friend was Born on May 18th, 1994, in Delaware...
besides, everybody knows that friends aren't always forever;
sometimes friendship whirlpools or hits the rocks, and
sometimes you drift apart,
and sometimes you sink slowly, swallowed by the ocean.(less)
"We've been friends for over 21 years," I mused to Owen. At 34 we've been friends for over half our lives. Time fucks with perception but Owen can read me like Everyone Poops Books. Owen's married and I'm single. He runs several shady online businesses that have made him(more) millions while I scrap by on my parents dime on the premise that I'm an artist.
Owen just had twins. Two little creatures that have already started to slowly saw at the oak of our friendship. His wife wouldn't be putting up with our late night shows, and benders while she was at home with two little milk vampires sucking her life dry. Makes sense too, everyone needs to grow and change of life gets boring. I'm fucking bored of life so i get it.
"It's cool bro, they are like my little proteges. I can make them into anything I want." I can't understand this shit, because the only time I admit to wanting kids is when some chick asks me and I know that the wrong answer leaves my dick dry. I have more time to myself because I've alienated most of everybody while investing all my friendship into one bromance. How could I not? When I was shitty and fucked his ex, picked bar fights, stole vicodins from his bathroom, and paid him back for shit around 50% of what I owed him. It never phased him. Said he'd hook up a job to keep me from that bridge. (Swallowing your pride from your parents monthly check will fuck with you.) You act like the future is uncertain but you know that he's a father and you are mid-thirties fuck-up and wives put the brakes on friendships like yours. It was a good 20+year run.(less)
A gnat slammed itself against the porch light repeatedly as I gingerly climbed the creaky, wooden steps.
It had been months since I saw Greg. We had a falling out on my way out of town. Stupid high school shit, but it was enough to maintain the silenc(more)e over the years.
We had been best friends since the fifth grade. His dad took me to my first baseball game. He was more of a dad to me than the jackass that was a father-in-name-only.
I was at work when I got the call from Janey, my ex. They hit a patch of ice and slid off 95 into the Androscoggin. Janey told me that Greg wanted me at the funeral. I couldn't manage more than a sympathy card. He had been my best friend for most of my life, and I didn't make it to his parents' funeral.
Greg was hosting the annual Fall Bonfire at his parents house. He inherited the three-story colonial and the family business. It was an annual tradition, as summer turns to autumn, and it would have felt wrong if the crew didn't get together.
When I lost my job, I was forced to move home, and in with my parents. It was inevitable I'd have to face him. When I got the email invitation, it had no mention of our falling out. No mention of my absence at the funeral. No questions as to why I came back. Just an open invite into his home.
I could smell the smoke billowing from the backyard. The gnat had given up the fight as I exhaled and faked a smile as the door opened.(less)
Luke sat down next to Donnie on the couch, offering a peanut butter sandwich. When Donnie declined Luck shrugged and started eating it himself. Donnie picked at the sleeve of his hoodie.
"Wanna talk about JJ?" Luke asked through a mouthful of bread and peanut butter. Donnie shook his(more) head. "Wanna play a violent, splattery video game?"
Donnie seemed to consider it for a second before shaking his head again.
"Wanna smoke some pot?"
Donnie chuckled before shaking his head. Luke paused mid chew to think.
"Wanna write screamy songs about your feelings and jam?"
Donnie laughed and nodded. Luke smiled at him.
"It's my job."
Donnie smiled properly before they both headed to the garage to play.(less)
Some would say that you were the worst kind of a roommate a girl could ask for.
Every morning you stomp up and down the hallway at some ungodly hour, with complete disregard for the person, me, sleeping just on the other side of a nearby door. If (more)I don't make you breakfast at the same time every day, you whinge and whinge until I give you a hug, and promise to make up for it tomorrow. As the energetic sort, you always like going out for a run, and I'm obliged to come with you as part of your fitness regime. You get excited at the most inappropriate times, such as when I'm getting ready for sleep at 10 at night. You nap all day when it's actually a good time for me to be spending time with you.
Yes, some say that you are a very difficult task to live with.
But despite the fact that you pee in the laundry because it's raining outside, and that you never stay on your bed while I'm trying to eat my dinner, you are my dog, and I will love you unconditionally until the day I die.
Your naughty little quirks are a blessing to my life.
You are my very best friend. (less)
"Rise and shine," Ed called cheerfully, yanking the blinds open. Al grunted and turned his face away from the light, pulling the too-short comforter up over his head to block out the sun's rays. "It's a gorgeous, sunny Saturday morning! What are you still doing in bed?"
Al(more) had a death grip on the sheets while he contemplated his options. Ed was far too perky for the daylight hours, the odds that he had been replaced by some sort of adult changeling seemed high. His death grip was rewarded when Ed yanked at the bottom of the comforter and tried to wheedle Al out of bed. "Come on, if you want to sleep that much you can catch a few winks in the car."
Or maybe Ed was just over-caffeinated. That had happened before.
Al finally emerged from the end of the comforter and glared blearily at his brother, who was in the process of shoving all his assorted belongings into his military-issue duffel bag. He watched Ed for a few long moments, and then glanced at the clock, as the realization dawned on him. "We're skipping town, aren't we."
"The card we used to check in has been compromised." Ed still sounded cheerful. "The check-in office doesn't open for an hour, it's better to clear out before someone comes after us with a baseball bat again."
Al sat up and ran a hand through his sleep-spiked hair. "We have got to find a better resource than credit card scams," he said, and caught his own half-empty duffel when Ed winged it at him.
"Less talky, more packy."
He smiled despite himself; it was welcome - if slightly unsettling - to see his brother in such good humor. "Have you even slept, Ed?"
"Are you fucking serious?!?" I shouted into the phone with exhilaration. "I can't fucking believe this....you, of all people are going to get married. How'd you trick her?"
"Oh man, I know. It's fucking crazy, right? I dunno, 7 months ago I was happy to be a single(more) man for the rest of my life. Living the same life I've always lived, but this is, it's weird, it's different." Jake said to me over the phone.
Jake had always been my best friend. We grew up together. We got yelled at by each other's parents and figured out alcohol together. He discovered girls and I did too, for a while. We went to the same college and worked for the same company, although in different cities. I felt like I could read him like a book that I've read a thousand times. I'd start to say something and catch him smiling because he was having the same retarded idea. And now, my best friend was getting married.
"So you're gonna come, right?" Jake said into the phone.
"Am I gonna come? Dude, I wouldn't miss this for anything." I replied. Jake had been there for me so many times. It was great to have a friend like that, a best friend. In reality, until I get married myself, I consider Jake my "best man".
"Awesome man. Well, you know how Cassandra is...super organized. She wants me to ask you, this far in advance, if you'd be an usher at the wedding. It'd really mean a lot to us. I was talking with Rob from my office, who I think you've met, about planning me a kick-ass bachelor party, since he's gonna be my best man. Do you think you can make that?