Best friends and best friends forever..

Today’s daily prompt was on best friends. 

I seem to be (re)evaluating friendships and relationships, a lot lately. Actually that isn’t true. I have been doing that in the recent past, the immediate past and the current present has me completely letting go of all things that bind me down. It isn’t going great in case you were wondering, but that’s the ultimate goal. To be able to let go to the point that I still care but not bound by it.

ITS FRIKKIN DIFFICULT OK?

..AND I WENT THROUGH NOT ONE, NOT TWO, BUT THREE *NATURAL* CHILDBIRTHS WITH NO PAIN MEDICATION, AND AM SAYING THAT THIS BALANCE IS BLOODY DIFFICULT.

There! That balance is hard. For me.

Not for my best friends, though. They are marvelous little jugglers, with a genetic disposition of the long matted hair saints in the Himalayas, or a sleepy gecko in the caribbean. I switch according to how much I love them at that moment.

I am a useless loyalist. I really only have the bandwidth for one single friend at any given point in time. If you are thinking “wow” – let me assure you, it isnt a safe place to be. Not that the friend in question will cheat on you, which is a whole new rant in its own, but that situation and life is a b*tch and no one really is responsible but people change and times change and so the relationship goes through some subtle to crazy chemical reactions and no one really knows the outcome of what each of us go through while storming it.

All my school life, I had just one friend. ALL. I had friends, but she was my soul mate. I break into tears even now when she pings me or we talk just a bit more than the usual “life is crap, but whatever right? type of talks.

In college I had one more. I cheated on my bestie from the above. Serves me right. Coz I know karma pays back and I have paid for that heavily. I had one other girl bestie whom I related to more. It was great. She moved on after college and we occasionally talk, but she went through a tragic life changing event last year and has since blocked her away.

Also anyone who tells you earth is flat and there is the internet and its so easy to be in touch is A CLUELESS LIAR.

I didnt really have a good BFF for a while after moving here to the US.

Then I found her. She still is, and she makes me feel so comfortable and so at ease and I love her to death. Since two years, we aren’t in touch as much as I would like to just because of life and physical distances etc, but every time I meet her my eyes light up and I am very happy. I truly wish I could spend more time with her, but we all know time is again another slimy b*tch.

What this BFF taught me was that being BFF wasn’t two-way. Just because she is mine, doesn;t mean I am hers. It isn’t mutual, and it doesn’t have to be and yet, it is okay. Took me forever to learn that.

Don’t you just hate (re)learning things as an adult, but the funny part is that we learn the most valuable lessons as adults. Not as children.

I also think guys make great friends. They are the best actually when all you want to do is talk, and if you want to hear the truth, and not be judged. I’ve had some pretty awesome guy friends, mainly online, and they’ve all floated in and out of my life, just like we drifters are meant to.

Only catch with them is that they go get married. Then that wife hates you. She will never act out the fact that she hates you, she will never breathe a word about you, she will stand at a safe distance and smile if she has to, not at you, but her husband when you land in their life. She will ignore you and make you feel like a worm and unwelcome and essentially screw with your mind so much that it takes a herculean effort to NOT shadow that with what you have with the guy. Of course the guy will have to keep the wife happy and well, that’s then then for you, the sucker friend.

It’s again WORK, to look beyond and tread carefully and tightrope it etc.

Who likes to work and consciously? Sigh.

Or they go have a baby.

Or a dog.

Men are single track minds. So asking them for time when you want to quick chat or run something by you is perfectly okay, but once they get married, it is never the same.

So there goes that dow that draining sinkhole.

So yes, what was the prompt again?

“Do you — or did you ever — have a Best Friend? Do you believe in the idea of one person whose friendship matters the most? Tell us a story about your BFF (or lack thereof).”

Yeah, I do think friendships rock. They, like any relationship need work, and both need to want to be there. It needs to be watered regularly. It needs time, and space and trust and mutual respect.

For folks like me, who invest heavily in that one single relation-at one time; it’s an emotional drain and fear that we live in constantly. Coz you learn to recognize the signs. You block them, but there they are badgering you constantly. Then you know. You just know it, when that heart sinks just a bit low when you wake up one day.

…and then you wonder, will it be awhile before someone else comes along, will it be quick, will it be painful, and will it last long after the embers are dead, and you just know that life will go on. The wheels will turn and sometimes slow sometimes faster than u can cope, but they turn and you will hobble along with or without your BFF next to you, but the memories will always stay with you.

 

a cycle run

So this summer Ive been meaning to spend more time with my Zeph and also more time outside. My new favorite before 9 am on most days is to take my Trek(cycle) and cycle around the neighborhood. Gives me some low-impact aerobic to do and 20 minutes of clear me-time while I sort things in my head. It’s a mess most mornings when i get up. Almost like the neurons decided to get all impish and twist themselves into a frenzied knot just because I work them so much during the day.

Usually the husband does Zephie’s morning walk. It’s their sacred time together. I have started taking her mid-afternoon into the woods and new terrains that she doesn’t do with him. Maybe twice a week.

Yesterday we were at the vet. Came back with a few revelations.

1. Zeph could afford to use 10 lbs. (yay, so could I, I cheered myself!)

2. She was awesome just the way she was according to her breed. She was not a huge kid person, and wouldn’t play fetch, but more herd and it’s OKAY for some breeds to not care about fetching or playing with other dogs. (I figured, just like mommy!) 3. She LOVES royal canine diet treats. Paid a hefty $40 for a 8 lb bag, which we shall use till next year!

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Zephie pausing for me to keep up

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Cooking for 1 {fable}

She grew up seeing her mom in the kitchen. Her aunts, grandmas, older female cousins and random ladies, all bent over the stove, cutting chopping vegetables, roasting spices and powdering and grinding and tasting and sweating and laughing and gossiping and sometimes cursing through the process.

It was a female domain.

The males part of this process was the finale. They came to eat. To occasionally praise, relish, and feel good at the end of the meal. They’d rinse their hands outside at the tap or the sink and walk away feeling satiated.

One can never imagine something if there was no precedent. Women cooked. That was it. She heard an occasional complaint whine from her grandma on how her second son was forced to cook because of his wife’s quixotic nature and she clucked her tongue. In the same tone, she would continue on the good old days when there were only males who cooked and who cooked great meals.

“Nala Bheema paakam.”

Quoting the famous line that proclaimed both Bhima (of Mahabharata fame) and King Nala (of Nala-Damayanti fame) the grandmother announced in subtle excitement that her now lined, experienced eyes belied, that men were indeed better cooks. With a sigh,m she would wrap her pallu again and tuck a large fold into her wrinkled waist and move on muttering under her breath and telling no one in particular “those were the days, the good old days” 

..and thus she grew up. As a child, a teenager and then an adult and a mom and a wife.

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a little 6 year old

Ive always treasured birthdays. My own more than anyone else’s actually. I expect to be treated special. I like to be pampered. I like to be surprised. I want to be treated like am a million bucks. I expect some folks who are in the closer circle to remember and wish me.I don’t particularly care for gifts, and I most certainly don’t think of its value except for the fact that they are being given to me as and extension of their love and thought.

Just for those 24 hours, I want to be in the spotlight. I love it. Once the night wears off, I want the lights off. I need my space. I need my corner and I need to just simply be.

Sounds selfish right?

If it makes any difference I like to do the same to my loved ones. I try. Sometimes I pull it off, sometimes I suck at it, but I try.

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