[Day 17] Ship Off, Ship Away

On November 16, I’m going to be a mess. Just understand that right now. Also understand that I really, really despise the Marines right now. No, no, I’m not one of those crazy hippies who protests wars or the military, it’s more of a personal issue. Yes, the Marines have personally offended me. How? They’re taking my best friend away from me.

I know, I know, I’ve talked about two best friends already. I promise, this is the last one. I like to think of my friends in a kind of a pyramid. I have three absolute best friends, around four or five very very very very close friends, and lots of acquaintances.  It’s a weird pyramid, but a pyramid nonetheless.

I met Bart in the middle of my sophomore year of high school, when he switched schools. I remember my first impression of him; walking into my Honors Comp/Lit class with his long, side swept skater hair, skater shoes, and baggy skater clothes. But he didn’t really look like a skater. He just looked like a person wearing those clothes. But I didn’t think about this much. Second impression; he’s cute!

Then I got to know him. I’m still not entirely sure why we’ve grown so close; it’s probably because we both have very hard to handle personalities, and we put up with each other. The cool thing about Bart was that there was never anything romantic between us. I’ve dated two of my very close friends, and it severely damaged friendships with the relationships dissolved. It’s nice to have absolutely no sexual tension at all, because I just don’t need that stress.

To be honest, I didn’t expect much out of our friendship. He was the goof that turned things in late and the guy I could joke with about inappropriate things. But last year, when the whole Dylan thing was going down, in addition to other social issues, he really came through for me. He knew immediately that something was wrong, and compelled me to tell him what was wrong. He listened to me, gave me hugs in between classes and at lunch, and then he helped me heal. Of course, the healing was as painful as the original wound, especially with Bart’s “tough love: approach, but I appreciated the push.

I’m a fairly aggressive person. I need someone to stand up to me and tell me when I’m being an idiot or when I go too far. And Bart does that for me. He understands me completely, and knows my limits. He knows how hard to push me when I’m being ridiculous and how long he should let me get away with moping.

Bart doesn’t open up a lot, but I’d like to think that I know him as well as he knows me. I try to be there for him like he’s there for me, but it’s hard with him. He’s the type of person that has really well defined priorities. If someone hurts him, he seals off all feelings for them and moves on. I can honestly say that I look up to him, because I wish I was like that.

In short, thank you, Bart, for never giving up on me, no matter how often I “whined”, no matter how many problems I got myself into, and no matter how crazy I acted. I will always be grateful of your influence on my life, and I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.