I know I don’t say it enough, but you’re like coffee.
Legend says (yes, I said legend says) that the discovery of coffee was an accident—something about a goatherd and loony goats…can’t quite remember…but the point is, coffee wasn’t supposed to have been discovered—Kaldi, the Ethiopian goat herd, had had no intention of discovering man’s best friend that fine day, and if it weren’t for his suddenly hyper goats, he definitely wouldn’t have. That is sort of how we became best friends. There was no defining moment or any girly hugs and squeals and loud exclamations of “Let’s be best friends for ever and ever and ever and ever and ever!”
It just happened. I had no intention of ending up with a best friend and you had no intention of befriending that crazy new girl with the over-the-top hand gestures, but suddenly you were throwing me surprise birthday parties and I was your keeper and you were mine. One day I’m just the new girl sitting next to you and fast forward some days and we’re comparing us to Yang and Grey. I was the Yin to your Yang (so pun-ny, no?). I remember quite a few games periods the first few months since I joined the school where we would just walk around and you would tell me about the ducks that used to be here and who’re the good people in class and who I should stay away from.
When Kaldi discovered the coffee beans, he took some back to the monks in the nearby monastery, but they didn’t like it because of its bitter taste and threw it into the fire. Coffee shouldn’t appeal to us—it is bitter and not really a soothing beverage. It doesn’t make sense.
We didn’t make sense either. I was overly enthusiastic and got excited over the stupidest of things and you were the quiet, reserved girl who didn’t seem to belong amongst these lowly Homo sapiens. I don’t think you even wanted to be my friend, I just latched on to you; we talked once and the next day I was excitedly waving to you and smiling foolishly at your sight—I remember you telling me a few months ago that you were quite taken aback and startled at my enthusiastic greeting in 8th grade. You already had two other best friends and everyone knows two best friends is the maximum anyone should ever be allowed. Believe me when I say that I never expected us to get close—the thought didn’t even enter my mind
But when the monks threw it into the fire, they detected a pleasant aroma and brewed the roasted seeds into coffee—and immediately fell in love.
It is impossible to pinpoint the exact moment we became friends—truth be told, I didn’t even confidently refer to you as my best friend until in 9th grade—because all through 8th, I honestly wasn’t sure. It wasn’t a case of opposites attract—because we weren’t opposites…simply…non-gel-able (doesn’t make sense, does it?). But we got along so marvellously.
Immediately after we became good friends, for this brief period of time we became coffee’s cool uncle, Iced Coffee. It’s great isn’t it, cold coffee? Sweet and sometimes chocolate-y. I know you’re sort of embarrassed about that time—it was the ugliest of honeymoon phases, complete with loads of note exchanging and 158s (you do remember 158, don’t u?) and non-stop gabfests—but I still look back on it with a smile for I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.
But one does tire of cold coffee pretty quickly and starts craving for that sensible, classic coffee.
And that’s what we are, classic.
Coffee is never judgemental. It takes you at your worst: grumpy and disagreeable with terrible bed hair, offers no complaint and then proceeds to put a smile on your face.
You took me in all my shades: happy, sulky, pissed off, scared, irrational, ecstatic… But at the same time, took no BS. You told me things as they were, if I was being stupid, you were the first in line to point it out—but unlike the others, with no intention of embarrassing me. You didn’t gloat when I failed—perhaps were even more upset about it than I was. I like to think I do the same for you.
But you know what I like best? Like coffee, we can also be extremely bitter. We were never the perfect pair of friends; we fought–and fought hard; we complained about each other to our second closest friends; there was even a time in 9th grade when we sort of grew apart, I grew closer to D and you talked to V and stopped telling each other everything—but at the same time, didn’t like this business of growing apart (at least, I didn’t anyway, did you?) and it was the briefest of times, but we only grew ever the stronger for it. We’re both insecure about our standing in the other’s life and still question how in the world we ended up best friends. But I’m still really glad we did.
I believe in God and you believe in Batman—but we never try to change the other’s perspective, simply accept it for what it is. We talk about religion and science in the same manner—not with the intention of changing the other’s mind, but simply because it’s an interesting topic.
We have different views on Life (remember the great debate on where this country is headed?) and argue back and forth, but end the conversation with a cheerful ‘this was fun’ or ‘hey, how about that movie’ and sometimes even ‘oye, you, tie my shoelace’.
Coffee doesn’t take offense when you turn to green tea to appease the Health Gods. It’s always there for you on the second shelf from the right.
We accepted that there were some things we simply couldn’t tell the other and didn’t mind when the other turned to someone else for help, confident that the other would eventually be ready to tell you.
You only let me see your girly side—and yes, I know you’re vehemently going to deny having a girly side, but c’mon who we kidding? You’re tough and make me tough when I need to be, but at the same time don’t pretend like something didn’t hurt you—at least not to me. You never pick up my pieces because you never let me break in the first place. You’re my person. And yes, I’m not comfortable using the l-word and I know you aren’t either, but I really do love you.
You like Rock and sneakers and Dragon Ball Z as much as you like dresses and talking about weddings. And even though it’s not “cool” to like Demi Lovato or miss Hannah Montana songs, I like that you do it with me nevertheless. I’m yet to meet someone quite like you.
And the fact that you have SLE only sunk in a few days ago, and I cried for five minutes when it hit me that my best friend has a life threatening disease and it really isn’t fair. So please, no talk of death, okay?
P.S I apologise for being incredibly cheesy and sappy, but I couldn’t help it.
P.P.P.S Watch Avenger’s bloopers…its awesome!