They say it takes two to tango. Really? I don't think they realized it takes just two to turn the world upside down too. The two whose unstoppable laughter makes everyone else wonder what was SO funny. The two who can just about dance with each other to even the most non-rhythmic music. The two who, no matter how long a separation, are up to date with each other's lives within a few minutes. The two who need each other to strike a balance between impulse and patience. The two who are labelled "crazy" by everyone in the group. The two who are always asked to shut up. That's what we've been for close to seven years now.
Ever pondered over the being of a coin? The two faces are completely different from one another, yet absolutely inseparable, unless cut with some sort of special tool, I have no knowledge of. I'm heads. She needs me to keep her grounded, soothe the volatility that ignites in her at the drop of a hat. She's tails. I need her for all the fun, the hyperactivity and the special spark in an otherwise dull day.
I puke my liver out, and she tells me I look beautiful while holding my head and turning the tap on. She cleans it all up, refusing to let anyone else come near, and then gleefully says she loves taking care of me. Though, when it was my turn to return the favor, I wasn't quite so gleeful.
She is that friend who I feel I need to be around for. I need to listen to the smallest of her problems and give that confused child some optimism. Even though she's found her sunshine (albeit a severely dimmed one), I want to be there for every bad decision she makes, just to say "Should have listened to me". I can just see us wreaking havoc in the old age homes together.
I know I'm going to be there for every grey hair that eats up her silky black locks. I'm going to spoil her kids, rotten! Hell, I'm going to be there for every step she takes, right or wrong. I'm going to be watching forever, and even she cannot take me off her map. That's the kind of liberty I can take with her, the way I can take with no one else. I can yell at her, I can insult her, I can snub her, I can slap the living daylights out of her, and even she cannot say anything. She WILL not say anything because our love is understood.
She will always be that person who turns me into a child. We will never cease to find each other funny, regardless of how much the world may scorn at us. She will always remain a yearning intellectual, who can never see her own smarts. Exasperatingly dolorous, though she may be, that quirkiness will forever be part of her existence.
She forgets dates.
She writes poems that don't rhyme.
She gets hurt easily.
She loses her temper like the Knight Riders lose matches.
She eats ten times as much as an average woman does.
She thinks too much.
She talks too much.
She reads too much.
She writes too much.
She can be very spiteful.
She listens to amazing music.
She played Basketball with me.
She danced with me.
She caused many a stir in school.
She banged on benches, sang and ate everyone's lunches in school.
She's explicit about all unnecessary sort of information.
She makes me laugh.
She shows me fun.
She speaks more than she listens, and yet
She gets it.
So many years together, and yet so little I can say. How can I sum up some of the most eventful days of my life in a few words? How can I describe the kind of understanding we share in any words at all? You need to be us to know it.
We've made so many memories, so many stories together. The day we start reminiscing will be... Well, let's just say that once again people will ask us to shut up.
We won't. :)
