She is tougher than she looks.
The happy, flirty exterior hides a woman
who has gone through her own personal hell.
Betrayal by friends and having to prove herself.
She and I are knitted together by a matrix
of experiences of life, and everytime I think
that I can no longer learn from her,
I am proven wrong and humbled by my arrogance.
She smiles and my heart melts. Not in a bad way.
I enjoy the intimacy we share,
the intimacy only reflected in our eyes,
reflected through the honesty of our easy conversations,
knowing she will be there when I need her.
She taught me about love. She taught me about letting go.
His gentleness and subtlety remind me of my spiritual paths.
The inner peace that I see within him has become stronger with time,
and our friendship is one of acceptance. As far apart as we are,
each meeting is as if we had never spent time apart,
and the realisation that we are becoming young men.
Emerging from our coccoons, a far cry from the naive boys we were.
I laugh with him. Laugh like I can forget the world,
and his obvious enjoyment fuels my own.
The innocence of friendship and laughter,
and knowing that we will be able to lean on each other
in this rollercoaster of life. Knowing that there will always be
place for me despite the differences between us.
He is the one of the few I can let down all barriers with.
Both fuelled on by each other's company,
be it comfortable silence or the manic laughing fits.
Growing up together, growing apart yet closer at the same time.
Finishing each other's sentences. Late night drives. Crazy ideas. My counterpart and ally.
She will always bring heartbreak to mind, and at the same time,
a friendship forged out of the embers of that mutual resolution.
A strange friendship, a strange bond, knowing I am one of the few
that she has ever dated, a strange comfort with each other
despite the distance that separates us now.
She reminds me of all that is good and sweet in this world.
Her warmth, her love, her capacity to trust.
The type of person that life has a habit out of eating alive.
She makes me want to protect her fragile heart,
to let her live her goodness without becoming
hardened like the rest of the world.
He carries within him such pain,
pain I can never begin to comprehend.
Yet, underneath the tough exterior,
every so often I feel him soften,
and I wish I could help him heal the scars.
With affection there is also pain,
for by opening myself to him,
I share the pain he speaks of.
They become part of me, and I carry part of them with me.
The joys, the sadness, the lessons I have learnt
and the ones they have learnt from me,
each individual and many more touching me in ways
so subtle and uncomprehensible, it will never be known
to what extent I have changed due to the course
of the people I have met.
Some are associated with life's lessons.
Some with the seven deadly sins,
and what I must never succumb to.
Some with matters of the heart,
and the realisation that the intensity
of emotion always grows with time.
Some with hope and pride and aspirations.
Some with the philosopher, the lover, the fighter,
the healer, the innocent, the darkness,
the good, the evil, the fallen, the hopeful
and everything in the world that exists within humanity,
and all I carry within.
And I wouldn't change a single thing.