My Best Friend.

My Best Friend. 

Most of us have a certain friend that we are very close to. A certain friend that we can always talk to, who we can always chat with, who we can work so well together, who we can laugh together, who we can always whack when we're feeling violent smile with.

Having someone like that in your life is just so comforting - You could tell he or she some of your deepest thoughts and secrets, knowing for sure that that friend would never ever tell anyone what you've said unnecessarily. That friend will always be ready to support you, to lend you a listening ear, and at the same time stop you if you're basically screwing your life up.

That, dear readers, is what a best friend is.

So since I seem to know so much about best friends, why is it that day by day it looks more and more like I don't have that best friend?

Really, so many of my thoughts I prefer to keep to myself, not because I don't want to share them. I do, I really do, but then again, who can I find that I can trust not to tell anyone what I say?

Not to mention, a best friend's got to be someone you could talk from day to night, night to day, and then some. A best friend isn't someone that you just stare at awkwardly, spending half the time thinking of what to talk about and the other half working up the guts to say so. (That'd be what we call a failed date or something.)

So really, I still don't have any friend that I could tell every single one of those  secrets I really want to share with someone. One friend that I can always count on. That one friend that I'll be able to talk to about anything under the sun, any time the clock points to.

Could it be because of my crazy theory about how I act differently in front of different people? That I really seem to be different people at different times, and because of that nobody truly, truly understands me. I do want to say more, but not everyone who reads my blog is my best friend. Then again, who is...?