My best friend is my worst enemy. In another dimension, he is probably that only one person who would make my skin crawl at the sight of him. He is the Master to my Doctor but at the same time, the Rory to my Amy (in a very platonic way though.)
My best friend, if you’ve met him and seen through him inside and out, is an absolute jerk. In my total defense though I can be very judgmental, insecure and crazy–although I’ll never really admit it. Both of us are an unlikely pair in the same way you would pair mint and ice cream (seriously, why are people so fond of mint ice cream? Disgusting!) There are people like me who abhor a pair such as that but there are ones who love it. To most people, they adore me and my best friend. We’re “very cute together” and “very mean in a cute way”.
It’s not my first time to hear that people adore our canon because that’s really what people generally say. But if you ask me and him about our friendship, you’d probably gather the same answer: it’s bonkers. We have a love-hate relationship because there are so many things we agree and disagree on. Almost 75% of the time, we agree on having Japanese food for lunch, spending a lot of money on the things we love, and more. The remaining 25%, though, is a mix of all the most controversial topics we almost never agree on. I believe that two best friends like us can have sleepovers without something “happening”, he doesn’t. I like Italian food, he doesn’t (it’s a big deal when we’re both hungry and deciding where to eat.) I’m a sucker for cute relationships and cheesy quotes, he abhors it to the very core. I like to talk about things that are deep and serious, he likes everything casual. I’m almost always talking about controversial things like homophobia, feminism, and human rights–he on the other hand just nods along.
I love my best friend. I truly do but sometimes you just want to kick them in the crotch and call it a day. He’s my best supporter but also my worst nightmare. There are days when I find it difficult to appreciate his support because he’s more straightforward than sugarcoating. I want to be given the support a girl needs but he just gives me the masculine way by showing me how some of my problems really were my fault and how it looks in reality. He shows me the very real side of things.
But like oil and water in a bottle, there will always be times where the two elements just mix while there’s some action. Shake the bottle and you get oil-water liquid inside. Let it be stagnant then you’ll see them separated. No matter how separated they look like, oil and water still do mix. If you look closely, you’ll see that in the median, oil and water are mixing. Just a small part though. And they don’t want you to totally see it either.
Similar to me and him, it’s only a small part of us that mixes together but even if it’s just a little portion, it’s very strong. Being friends at first is all about appreciating the goodness in them and the things you have in common, but being best friends is all about recognizing their darkness and the things you never really agree on. We’ve been friends for a long time and we always celebrate the things we have in common–our sense of humor, our perspective on things, our brutal honesty, and our appreciation for the darkness of the other. There are waaaaaay too many things we don’t have in common. More numerous than the ones we do share but even if that’s a large number and if you’re mutually there to stick it through then it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that tiny little portion of oil and water that mixes. That tiny but very potent portion of love for each other. When you love your best friend, that love you have for them for the things you have in common becomes a love for just about their entire being–good and bad.
In reponse to the Daily Post’s Oil, Meet Water