Guilty Pleasures

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[09July212 ; 0248]

I talked to my best friend tonight.

We’re both in college now, finally, but we haven’t seen hair nor hide of each other in the three weeks that we’ve been in school. I miss the bloody git. And I think, somewhere deep down — really, really, deep down — he misses me too. He denies it, sarcastically agrees, or says something vague alluding to it, but I know he does. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be calling me at random times at night and in the early hours of the morning.

Like right now.

And damn, I just realized how much I really missed having him around — flinging insults left and right, bickering about whether Clerith or Zerith was the Final Fantasy VII pairing, call me a creep for taking pleasure in observing people, and trying to break my neck just for the fun of it.

Just being there, not even really talking as much as knowing that the other is there, kind of really makes my day. Even if my day hasn’t really started yet. Even if I have to face another mound of homework. (I envy his freshman status; he doesn’t get as much torture schoolwork)

Even if he did end up sleeping on me.

Because if I was going to be honest about it, I’d be all creepy and say I’m reassured to just hearing him breathe at the other end of the line. It proves that he’s really there, real and very much alive, not a figment of my overactive imagination that my mind conjured up on my fifteenth birthday as a consolation gift of sorts.

So go on, Bryan. Just keep sleeping. And breathing. And living. And just being you.

It’s a guilty pleasure of mine just observing these things.


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