podeamuntitled, as usual
I seem to be doing this quite a bit, but I must admit I may have been a little wrong-.
It’s nice to be with people who take me for who I am; not expecting me to be better or perfect or the epitome of excellence. They know my faults, and bear with me despite them. They tease me, and laugh at me when I get pseudo-offended.
Dinner and ice creams and general time wasting on a friday evening, ending with giggling in one of our bedrooms trying to beat silly computer games was salve for a horrid period.
They chided me (over ice creams) for having never blogged about them; I never realised I never have.
I don’t need to, not really. I take them for granted, this unlikely bunch. As surprising as it seems, seeing as how I loathed my secondary school, they’re from that same school. Unsurprisingly, they aren’t from my class. We can’t even remember how we met; from different classes and different social circles, two bandits, a chorister, and a drama geek.
And the sillyness we degenerate to is amusing; it was decided on friday that’s we’d marry each others’ brothers, and spend our days shopping and eating (of course, being the only male in the group, it was decided I would be the family butler instead).
I have a few other people, none from my present but from my pasts, whom I’ve spent the past day trying to hook up with. No longer all that close, I hadn’t thought of them in my time of despair, but their companionship would still soothe raw nerves.
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It’s amazing you’re reading this. Dull writers and dull lives a good read does not make.
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