Thinking a lot about my best friend

There's going to be a party where I'm meeting up with my best friend. Personally, I'm tired of writing about her; that's the point. In fact, I was having more fun doing other things. I wanted to use this time to study because of what happened between us, which I was very uncertain about, but I felt like I came across some really interesting things. I miss her a lot. I can't write to her because she's blocked me, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that we can see each other and talk and have a good connection, even though there's no clear future between us. I don't know her plans, nor does she know mine, and she doesn't ask about my life, whether I'm alive or not, or anything like that. I don't know if she really loves me, I confess. I call her my best friend because at least she lets me influence her somewhat, but it's really nothing, absolutely nothing. There's nothing between us, sorry for the inconsistency.

There's no future between us, no life at all. I don't know what I'm doing for someone like that, or why I fought so hard for her. I realized my struggle was for nothing, and all this time I've spent trying to deny reality, perhaps at her own expense, for pushing her to the point of having to say yes. I don't feel like she's a friend; there's no one there. I didn't show her anything. She's just trying to stay, resisting the urge to leave, and all she needs is some contact from me. Good heavens, I miss her terribly. Seeing her feels like it brings me back to life, but it's a product of all the disappointment I'm carrying, which makes me want to write in the WhatsApp group to end it all once and for all, but I don't want to lose her. I don't know if she's going on a trip, or if I'll even know. Her life is a secret to me. I don't know if she'll leave me if I'm honest. She lives as much in her own world as I do in mine. We both, I confess, are afraid that our progress in life will be cut short because we have opposing principles. Therefore, we fear that the other will take excessive control at all costs. As a result, we feel like we're losing our progress and being with him is the same as having nothing, something that will eventually slip away due to disinterest, or we might rebel and then lose ourselves just the same.

We're not capable of being together like this, and that's why our encounters are occasional, specific. But of course, it's not that we don't enjoy it; quite the contrary. Rather, we make an effort to safeguard our feelings, taking into account our impulses. I'd like to check her Instagram profile, ask her about her life when I think I see her in an ad, but I think I won't. It's a complete distance, but it's to try to maintain our connection. I don't want to leave her, just as she doesn't want to leave me; neither of us wants to. Whenever one of us wants to leave, the other always pulls us back, without exception, without a tantrum, they just manage to catch us. I feel, and I have to say it, that our relationship is dysfunctional; it sounds like it, but it actually works based on the circumstances we've found. I'm tired of writing about it, of trying to figure it out, to the point where I just want to move on to other things in life, like doing math or physics exercises, or reading.

Despite everything, I feel like I've missed her a lot because she's broadened my horizons so much, to the point where I now have a context for how my country works. I can say that I've learned a great deal from the way we interact. Well, for the first time in a long time, I feel like I don't have much to say about it, and I feel like I've completely cleared away that whole tide of thought. As I always say, that thinking is finite, but of course, it's a matter of putting it in the right place. I used to write a lot, and sometimes I even ran out of space. But I don't feel that way anymore. I'm actually forcing myself, and I like it, because I feel like I've really gotten the most out of what I experienced with her, even though I didn't think it would be so little.

In a previous experience, the whole thing took several months, and in fact, it didn't end when I expected. There were other things afterward; the issue was always present. But this is the first time I've noticed that it was all over in such a short time. It's as if that first experience had already become essential, and this one, the current one with my best friend, was more of an applied game, a version of the previous one. The difference is that the previous experience happened with a different girl; she was in a group with its extensions, and I was outside the group. With my best friend, however, it's different because it all happened within the same group. It was many months of study, in fact, I remember that after work, I would dedicate myself to reflecting on the matter, I didn't want to do anything else, because I wanted things to go well with this girl.

I also wanted to explore why I thought the way I did, according to how we were progressing. These are things that amuse me, seeing how my ideas change in that space of writing, of freedom; I did it in a notebook. It feels wonderful to be able to talk about this, to share it, because these are things you don't usually tell anyone. In fact, I don't expect to tell my best friend either, to avoid arguments. That's why our conversations are also brief—another thought!

What happened with my best friend and me happened at the office, with a boss who is the epitome of toxicity. I thought my father had won the prize, but I was completely wrong. My friend is holding him accountable, like she is for everyone. I feel like everyone has to tolerate her now, silently, and that bothers everyone, but they can't do anything about it, and I like that because the world can no longer turn against her. With the party, I feel like it will be possible for her and me to be there, to keep each other company, more than anything. If she rejects me or anything, I won't pay any attention to it. I don't think I should, because I feel like it will be proof of that. Honestly, I don't know what will happen then, and I'm anxious, but I want to do my best for it, because in fact, all this time, I've been preparing for it, to give her my best, to be available, up-to-date, happy, cheerful, so we can continue sharing moments together. I'm not willing to ruin another friendship, not while I have the opportunity to do something, however it may be, that also definitely contributes to my understanding of the world. I feel like she and one other person are my friends at the office, because the rest, I'm afraid, are essentially just acquaintances. I won't deny it, there are times when I cry a lot because she's not with me right now. I also have to say that while I was out on the street, relaxed, every little change reminded me of her, made me contemplate the unique nature of our relationship, mainly because it unfolds within the everyday, yet with particularities that make all the difference. However, despite all the effort I'd put in, I'd expected a kind of marital union; or rather, I was inclined toward it out of inertia, but it wasn't what I'd hoped for.

My journey with her has been one of utter disappointment, in that what we have is unique and always operates within its own particular framework, within its own conditions. There's no room for formality; we can't create it because otherwise we won't feel acknowledged by the other—another important reflection. It's absolutely worth enjoying what we have because, generally, everything ends up in chaos. The last time I ran into her, she was with my boss, and she greeted me with great joy, in her usual bitter way, but undoubtedly receptive to the atmosphere we're in. The fact that she manages to coordinate with me, despite the pressing circumstances—it's the office and she's the one who controls the schedule—is what makes me call her my best friend. She truly considers my needs, and while I can't limit our meetings, she takes responsibility.

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