In my second post, I’d mentioned that in the course of coming posts I’d tell you my most precious memories of the people closest to me. The last post was about one of my best friends, Xavia. Normally, the next would be my mom but I’ve decided to save that for a more special occasion. Instead I’ve chosen to write about best friend #2. I don’t want these posts to interrupt my normal fandom related posts so I’ll be breaking the alternate day rule for these.
In keeping with the anonymity of the blog, I chose the nickname Xavia because I knew she’d love it. Best friend #2 is going to be Zombie – simply because I know he’d hate it. Zombie was a nickname we gave him a couple of years ago because no matter what he’s thinking or feeling, his face never betrays any emotions and it is a nickname that he has never approved of to date.
My friendship with Zombie has had a lot of ups and downs. When I joined my new school in the 8th grade, he was in my new class. I didn’t really start talking to him for a couple of months though, and even then it was because his friends and my friends started talking to each other. My first impression was rather bad I guess, because I always felt that he found me annoying. (I’ve asked him about that repeatedly and he once said that he didn’t but I still doubt it)
About 2 years later though he was the one person I’d confide in about literally everything. Z knew all there was to know about me and for my part, I’d always be there to listen to whatever was going on in his mind (or at least I tried to be).
And this is where my favorite memory of his comes into play. It was a Sunday morning and my mom had gone out. I was at home with my brother and dad, and desperately wanted to go out for a walk, but I had an exam the next day and dad knew I’d studied nothing and wanted me to sit in and study (although he didn’t explicitly say so). And so I was stuck in room trying to study Physics when my phone rang.
It was Z standing downstairs asking me to come down so we could go for a walk. And that’s how, in a very obstinate and teenage-y moment, I decided to pay no heed to my dad’s expectations or the incredible mound of syllabus I had left and set out for an afternoon walk with him.
I don’t even remember what it was that we talked about and I know it wasn’t even anything serious but that simple act was a big thing for me. I’ve always been the kind who wants to please her parents and they definitely didn’t expect me to not listen. They were actually pretty cool about it, since they knew I was responsible enough to finish my syllabus later and that I’d not even gone further than a block away, but I guess it came as a little bit of a surprise.
And that’s how much I loved (and still love) talking to him. My favorite memories of him are walking down the lane between our houses for hours after basketball and just talking.
We talk about the most random things, I drive him crazy on most days, don’t listen to a single word of good and patient advice that he offers and am usually a total drama queen around him. And yet by some miracle it’s been 5 years and he’s still here. Sure there have been misunderstandings and minor fights (not really, but we have been mad at each other), but at the end of the day he’s still here to listen to me while I’m completely freaking out and need help.
I’ve never really understood why he stuck around or why we’re still friends given our completely opposite personalities but I’m glad he did.