He's getting married in August. We've known each other for 15 years.
My life seems like a revolving door of death. First my uncle. Then my grandma. Then my grandpa. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Just when I think I'm finally digging both my feet into the ground again, someone else dies. And I have to plan. And then I have to speak.
My best friend is getting married. I get to plan and speak about someone who isn't dying. In fact, he's about to start his life. He's happy. He's found his perfect partner. He's going to soon start a family, I bet. Usually when women talk about their friends getting married, and they aren't yet married, there is always this hushed whisper in the background. "Is she jealous?" "I bet she wish it happened to her first." And when your best friend is a dude the loudest whisper of them all begs the questions: "Does she have feelings for him?" "Does he have feelings for her?"
I guess if I was on the other side of the looking glass I would have the same curiosities, but from where I am standing, those quiet notions seem so silly. I have been so fortunate to have had a consistently and purely platonic relationship with my best friend, and I couldn't be more elated that my hilarious, weirdo, super nerd best friend found somebody to love.
I admit, I have judged my best friend's girlfriends harshly. Not because I didn't want him to find love, but because I wanted him to find love that was real and true. One of my favorite attributes about him is his child-like spirit, and his love for things "normal adults" may label as "immature." His laughter and that inner-child, inner-dork, make him who he is. I was harsh because I didn't want my friend to lose himself for the sake of love.
I am overwhelmed with joy for so many reasons, but the main reason is that my best friend doesn't have to sacrifice a part of himself to be in love, to find his happiness. He has found a partner that lets him be who he is, and just when he is about to cross the line between ridiculous and impossible, she restrains him. It's a beautiful thing. Yes, you can wear that tie-dye X-Men shirt. Yes, you can wear your chaco sandals with cargo shorts. Yes, you can wear your crocodile dundee hat. It's time to trim your beard.
My best friend and I don't have much in common, in neither the present nor the future I'm guessing. The past is the tie that binds us. But to watch that little dorky kid I met 15 years ago on the school bus become the man he is today...It just makes me feel so damn good.
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