Feet thinkers

by Somethinger

It’s easier to stand on the shore and dream about the waves. She does that all the time. Observe from a distance because, let’s face it- it’s easier that way. No risks.
This has to do with the relationship I have with my best friend, Manasi. She’s the wiser one. I’m the impulsive thinker. She’ll look out for me while I’m busy causing damage to the system. To be fair, she knows I’m programmed to undo. I, in the meanwhile know that try as I may, I can never make her think like me. But that’s okay. We balance each other.
Actually, she’s the pattern in my madness.
So when I told her about this latest addition in my circle, phone book, whatsapp etc, she wanted to say such a lot, but she didn’t. That’s how she is. Apprehensive, uncertain- but caring. Because these are strange tides- and while I do go swimming every once a while, she knows what currents could have me sinking.
She’s apprehensive not just about me, because of the absolutely unwavering idiot that I can be, but because she doesn’t see herself in me. She doesn’t see a pattern that she could have fought had she been in my place. As much as I convince her that this is something I don’t want to fight off, she’ll only nod. I know for a fact that her weapons of ‘I told you so’ and ‘this too shall pass’ are hidden behind her but not well enough for me not to see.
I can’t help it either. I have to jump to conclusions. I have to scratch my gut a little more for answers till I bleed and yet, not find them. But that’s how I’m programmed. A little on the masochistic side.
That’s why I can’t do without her standing on the shore. Every time I’m hurt that much more than the last time, I need a Manasi to be nursed back to being ready to war against myself again. She’s my fuel. She’s my pillow.
“But there’s no point telling you,” she finally said last evening, “If I tell you five things to do you’ll go ahead and do the sixth. But I’ll still tell you those five. I have to. That’s my role.”
That’s when I stand up to everyone who wonders why I’m still friends with that nagging, pessimistic, practical girl who’s everything I’ll never even wish to be like.
It’s the other way round, you see. She’s everything I cannot even hope to be like.
While I swim in tides that could drown me, my buoy’s still watching.