The concept of friendship is one thing that Avisi just doesn’t understand.
Apparently, it’s this thing that’s laid on the foundation of compromise- something that she hated beyond limits.
Why did she have to give up on something that she thought was necessary or something that she loved on the whim of the person beside her? Shouldn’t the person in question do the same for her when time comes? Why is it that the so-called friends that she’d had until now never showed a sign, at least, of doing so? Or maybe, it was her who was at fault. Maybe, her expectations were just a bit too high.
Avisi was a kid, after all. It wasn’t guaranteed that she’d find her BFF at the age of 13.
But what always took place in the countless stories that she’d read was something different. The protagonist is friends with the person who’s destined to go through thick and thin since diapers. Fights and hurdles don’t break them, but make their bond stronger than it already is.
A monkfish’s vomit- yeah, that’s what it is. If it even does vomit, that is.
It took quite an amount of time for her to like people. It took more than that for her to realize just how much the person that she’d chosen for herself was sucking the living lights out of her.
And guess what took more than that?
Getting over the sorrow that she’d walked into.
Now, now- is that not depressing?
Certainly not, I’d bet you’d agree.
She was this highly emotional person who valued relationships to a very high extent. Putting aside the fact that she had a different way of valuing relationships, let’s- no, let’s not. Let’s bring back the fact that she has a different way of valuing relationships into the main picture.
I believe that you know by now that she does not particularly like compromising (you should’ve known after the one hundred and eighth word of this document).
Of all things, she hates compromising her comforts for people the most.
Though she loves her parents to death, all she can do when it comes to respecting the expectations they had for her, was dream of reaching up to them. Not that she couldn’t actually reach up to them- her parents only expected her to do what she could do; what she would do if she tried even just a bit.
She hates the fact that humans label everything and anything they come across for future reference- including themselves. And yet, she finds herself labeling herself.
She finds herself at a point where she’s confused about whether she’s an introvert or an extrovert. And, that’s the end.
One day, as she strolled down the newsfeed of her social-media account, she came across a post in which the following words were written:
‘I’m an introvert in an extrovert body.’
She couldn’t help but gasp at how well it described her- or how well she thought it described her.
Happiness is one thing that makes her babble and bicker to no end.
And this sudden happiness that surfaced after she came across that post made her want to bicker even more than usual. And she did just that. She ran to her mom who sat at the dining table, working on her laptop and plopped down onto the chair beside her with this big, fat smile on her face.
She told her mom all about it, just to get scolded about how she should concentrate more on doing and thinking about things that’ll actually help her lead a productive life and should stop trying to label herself and restrict her being to its tight confinement.
That was quite harsh albeit sensible.
And so, she tried to do just that.
You see, the need to label herself as someone came when she’d heard that like-minded individuals become great friends. And in order to do that, she had to know what her thinking was like.
Who knew that that one thought could result in a drastic change in her thinking? She became more interested in the subject of naming herself and confining herself to the walls of it. She found a quality that applied to her and owned it, confining herself to it. Then she replaced it with another, and this cycle went on until the ‘mom’ incident. (The one that took place 280 words ago.)
Now, that’s that.
Nope. That’s not it.
This want to label herself and to meet like-minded individuals- it was satisfied when she met three of her own class. They’d been allotted the seats around her, and seemed quite nice and friendly.
They talked. They laughed. They had a lot of fun.
And then they drew up this so called mental contract (whatever that means) which stated that they would be best friends. Dude, it was like three days that they met.
They got to know everything about each other. Not everything everything, but everything.
And that was when all hell broke loose.
But whatever that did break loose, helped her realize something really important.
She didn’t have to live to find friends. She had to live, and in the process she might find friends. Friends weren’t everything; they were people you go to when you want a break from the world. You feel like you need a break from them, and that’s when you realize that something’s wrong. Wrong with you or with them- you either sort it out or break it off. It’s not the end of the world.
The same with everyone else. But not with family. Family is different.
Family is a part of you, not some people you’re related to.
That’s one thing that Avisi’s learnt for now. That’s quite a huge thing to know considering the fact that all she is 13 years old.
(And there she goes confining herself again- the only thing that’s different is that this time, it’s to the walls of age.)
Avisi thanks you. For patiently reading through her stupidity and understanding her to some extent.