Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Thank you for being wonderful and having such a beautiful soul.
Thank you for being a saint, a diva, my number one fan, an angel, a fucking rockstar, a therapist, and a little too crazy at times. Thank you for being what I exactly needed at any given point in time, for being so forgiving of my ugliness, and for being just you. Thank you for being my friend.
Bet you didn’t expect this coming – but I really needed to write this one post just for you. I don’t know how I could have survived the past four months without you.
I remember once a mutual friend asked me,
“Tc, you realize you’re three years older than her – right? Why do you even go to her for advice?”
Yeah, why do I go to you? I admire your patience, your loyalty, and how gracious you are to your friends. You never falter in reminding your friends how important they are to you -- and I truly respect that. In an age where its easy to hop from friend to friend, to lose touch, and only contact each other via facebook ... you know how to be a good friend. That's rare and special.
Age is not an indication of maturity. And you? You are a testament to that. When you want to be – you are beyond your years (when you’re not bouncing off the walls, wildly wiggling your eyebrows, cussing like a sailor just for fun, attempting to make every situation or moment raunchy and sexual, and giving the cameras in front of your house a free dance show…. Wait, should I take that maturity bit back?)
And I want to thank you, for trusting me too – with your thoughts, insecurities, fears, and hopes. Because…I wouldn’t fully appreciate your perfection without knowing your flaws.
And when I found out you had got into college, it was as if your happiness was my happiness too. It was as if I had just gotten into UCLA – I was so SO proud of you. You have come such a long way from the girl I first met – who was a little shorter than I had imagined, a bit more delicate than I had expected, and a whirlwind of uncontained and definitely uncontrollable energy. When you are… Happy. Strong. Proud. Confident. Calmly looking "future" in the face, armed for battle and ready to embrace life despite the cheap shots it’s taken at you – Yasmeen, you are truly captivating.
Thank you for giving me a piece of your heartache and watching me as I stumble through mine. We’ve watched each other cycle through so many emotions in the last few months. The initial bubbling hot anger, the poisonous bitterness, and the dreadful grief that comes with the end of a relationship….you have a gift for being able to empathize and I appreciated having a companion in my sorrows – as depressing as that sounds.
“We’ve come a long way from then haven’t we?” said more as a statement than as a question.
It’s been a hell of a ride – and you know what, we’re not done yet.
In fact, if anything, we’re at the top of the last climax – looking down at our feet limply dangling, hanging towards the ground, hundreds of feet below us. Peeking past the bars holding us down, out to that unexpectedly-calm blue sky...then slowly taking in our surroundings -- that chaotic theme park below us, nothing but a broken music box playing as if it had just been wound up -- cacophonus, discordant, rushed. Our breaths, shallow -- barely noticeable when compared to our hearts beating rapidly, ready to burst. That moment, we’re trapped in that moment. Facing the next moment, knowing exactly what will happen, but still nervous to experience that sudden jarring jerk from the rollercoaster pulling us down. Faster than gravity – that rush of adrenaline and fear.
But we both know, we’ll make it out alive. Because after we suddenly drop, we know we’ll scream at the top of our lungs. Then that sudden turn to the right, and a swoop around the bend– welcomed by a sudden abrupt stop. Stop. Like the end of a French movie. It’s over. Fin.
Are you ready for the last part of the ride? Because, I think we are.
We'll look back and wonder why we had tormented our hearts into anarchy... because we'll be okay in the end.
I love you, Yas.