Day 7. Don't you dare laugh at me, I know feng shui.
Your best friend, in great detail
I have a lot of good friends. More than most people. I’m lucky in that respect. I had to wait a long time to find them, but I did find them- and that’s all that matters now.
I have a handful of great friends, they are my boys, my knights, the unbeatable force that no one can break.
I have a friend who is almost my twin brother, he’s a bit younger, a bit more impulsive and a lot more confident, who allows me to escape into magic worlds of our own creation.
I have a friend who was once only an idol- they tell you that you should never meet your heroes but I say you just have to be careful who you pick- mine’s has never let me down.
I have a friend who from the very first day I met knew how to finish my sentences, who can mirror me exactly and set up so perfectly it’s effortless knocking them down.
I have a friend who was also a childhood sweetheart never realized, who I was lucky enough to grow up with so I could fall in love with him all over again.
But there will be other days for writing about them, because this-
This is for Sam.
My best friend.
Sam, who holds me hostage in peals of laughter, who drives me to distraction with his stubbornness, who never takes very long to coax into mischief. Sam, who has seen me through some of the very best, and worst, times of my life.
When Sam knows the lekki’s gone he’ll ask if you’ve had a power cut, when the gas board cuts you off he’ll help you build a fort. When Sam knows foods short he lets you pretend it was you being a chancer that got you your free lunch, and not his good nature. Sam doesn’t buy you a pint when you’re skint, he brings round a crate.
Sam doesn’t paint- he captures- better than a photograph, better than a sound- every sweep of brush against canvas is drenched in emotion, every white highlight, every blue shadow, he steals time for us, makes us immortal, seals us together forever and makes me dizzy, Sam is the scent of acrylic and oil and the nip of turpentine, Sam is horse hair and wood, and murky water jars- 16 colours swirling together in impenetrable fog.
Sam doesn’t let just anybody close. He builds his fences high. But once you get into his garden he never turfs you out and it’s always spring. Sam isn’t as brave as he comes across, Sam is stronger than he thinks he is. Sam stands up for what he believes is right even if sometimes that means doing something perceived to be wrong. Sam is not always kind, or rational, or fair but neither does he pretend to be. Sam can shoot me down like the sharpest arrow- but he always fires warning shots.
Sam teases me about my height, and my weight, and my big doe eyes, he thinks my accent is preposterous and my hair is absurd- Sam- who rolls his eyes at my neuroticisms and sometimes when I’m talking he’ll give me this look that says “Peter, you are ridiculous.”
Who is one of the very few people to call me Peter regardless of tone.
Sam is strawberry bootlaces, and holding my hand when I get sad at kids films, Sam is pretending to be Russian on the subway and talking in our fake accents for so long that they stick for hours afterwards. Sam is drunken taxis home trying to talk the cabbie into going through the MacDonalds drive thru. Sam is walking along the canal and pretending you’re on Florida Beach.
Finding Sam is that feeling of finding an old key to an unknown door, of a half bleached photograph of a face you think you would know if you had a clearer picture. Sam is too much vodka not enough sense, he’s obsessively running through box sets and a freezer full of ice poles and setting fire to oven mits with an ELECTRICAL oven.
Sam is never feeling alone, Sam is holding court at a party and only looking to see one smile, Sam is quiet moments on a balcony watching cigarette smoke spill up into a sky full of stars that never seem too far out of reach with him by my side.
Everyone thinks that their best friend is the best person that there has ever been; no one makes you laugh like they do, makes you feel safe like they do, tells you off like they can, break your heart like they can. No one in the world can hold a candle to them. Everyone has one, and everyone thinks their best friend is the best.
But I don’t think that.
I know it.
I love you Sam Clarke.
Now get in the van.
xxxxxxxx
Day 01 - Introduce yourself, in great detail
Day 02 - Your first love, in great detail
Day 03 - Your parents, in great detail
Day 04 - What you ate today, in great detail
Day 05 - Your definition of love, in great detail
Day 06 - Your day, in great detail
Day 07 - Your best friend, in great detail
Day 08 - A moment, in great detail
Day 09 - Your beliefs, in great detail
Day 10 - What you wore today, in great detail
Day 11 - Your siblings, in great detail
Day 12 - What’s in your bag, in great detail
Day 13 - This week, in great detail
Day 14 - What you wore today, in great detail
Day 15 - Your dreams, in great detail
Day 16 - Your first kiss, in great detail
Day 17 - Your favorite memory, in great detail
Day 18 - Your favorite birthday, in great detail
Day 19 - Something you regret, in great detail
Day 20 - This month, in great detail
Day 21 - Another moment, in great detail
Day 22 - Something that upsets you, in great detail
Day 23 - Something that makes you feel better, in great detail
Day 24 - Something that makes you cry, in great detail
Day 25 - A first, in great detail
Day 26 - Your fears, in great detail
Day 27 - Your favorite place, in great detail
Day 28 - Something that you miss, in great detail
Day 29 - Your aspirations, in great detail
Day 30 - One last moment, in great detail
I have a lot of good friends. More than most people. I’m lucky in that respect. I had to wait a long time to find them, but I did find them- and that’s all that matters now.
I have a handful of great friends, they are my boys, my knights, the unbeatable force that no one can break.
I have a friend who is almost my twin brother, he’s a bit younger, a bit more impulsive and a lot more confident, who allows me to escape into magic worlds of our own creation.
I have a friend who was once only an idol- they tell you that you should never meet your heroes but I say you just have to be careful who you pick- mine’s has never let me down.
I have a friend who from the very first day I met knew how to finish my sentences, who can mirror me exactly and set up so perfectly it’s effortless knocking them down.
I have a friend who was also a childhood sweetheart never realized, who I was lucky enough to grow up with so I could fall in love with him all over again.
But there will be other days for writing about them, because this-
This is for Sam.
My best friend.
Sam, who holds me hostage in peals of laughter, who drives me to distraction with his stubbornness, who never takes very long to coax into mischief. Sam, who has seen me through some of the very best, and worst, times of my life.
When Sam knows the lekki’s gone he’ll ask if you’ve had a power cut, when the gas board cuts you off he’ll help you build a fort. When Sam knows foods short he lets you pretend it was you being a chancer that got you your free lunch, and not his good nature. Sam doesn’t buy you a pint when you’re skint, he brings round a crate.
Sam doesn’t paint- he captures- better than a photograph, better than a sound- every sweep of brush against canvas is drenched in emotion, every white highlight, every blue shadow, he steals time for us, makes us immortal, seals us together forever and makes me dizzy, Sam is the scent of acrylic and oil and the nip of turpentine, Sam is horse hair and wood, and murky water jars- 16 colours swirling together in impenetrable fog.
Sam doesn’t let just anybody close. He builds his fences high. But once you get into his garden he never turfs you out and it’s always spring. Sam isn’t as brave as he comes across, Sam is stronger than he thinks he is. Sam stands up for what he believes is right even if sometimes that means doing something perceived to be wrong. Sam is not always kind, or rational, or fair but neither does he pretend to be. Sam can shoot me down like the sharpest arrow- but he always fires warning shots.
Sam teases me about my height, and my weight, and my big doe eyes, he thinks my accent is preposterous and my hair is absurd- Sam- who rolls his eyes at my neuroticisms and sometimes when I’m talking he’ll give me this look that says “Peter, you are ridiculous.”
Who is one of the very few people to call me Peter regardless of tone.
Sam is strawberry bootlaces, and holding my hand when I get sad at kids films, Sam is pretending to be Russian on the subway and talking in our fake accents for so long that they stick for hours afterwards. Sam is drunken taxis home trying to talk the cabbie into going through the MacDonalds drive thru. Sam is walking along the canal and pretending you’re on Florida Beach.
Finding Sam is that feeling of finding an old key to an unknown door, of a half bleached photograph of a face you think you would know if you had a clearer picture. Sam is too much vodka not enough sense, he’s obsessively running through box sets and a freezer full of ice poles and setting fire to oven mits with an ELECTRICAL oven.
Sam is never feeling alone, Sam is holding court at a party and only looking to see one smile, Sam is quiet moments on a balcony watching cigarette smoke spill up into a sky full of stars that never seem too far out of reach with him by my side.
Everyone thinks that their best friend is the best person that there has ever been; no one makes you laugh like they do, makes you feel safe like they do, tells you off like they can, break your heart like they can. No one in the world can hold a candle to them. Everyone has one, and everyone thinks their best friend is the best.
But I don’t think that.
I know it.
I love you Sam Clarke.
Now get in the van.
xxxxxxxx
Day 01 - Introduce yourself, in great detail
Day 02 - Your first love, in great detail
Day 03 - Your parents, in great detail
Day 04 - What you ate today, in great detail
Day 05 - Your definition of love, in great detail
Day 06 - Your day, in great detail
Day 07 - Your best friend, in great detail
Day 08 - A moment, in great detail
Day 09 - Your beliefs, in great detail
Day 10 - What you wore today, in great detail
Day 11 - Your siblings, in great detail
Day 12 - What’s in your bag, in great detail
Day 13 - This week, in great detail
Day 14 - What you wore today, in great detail
Day 15 - Your dreams, in great detail
Day 16 - Your first kiss, in great detail
Day 17 - Your favorite memory, in great detail
Day 18 - Your favorite birthday, in great detail
Day 19 - Something you regret, in great detail
Day 20 - This month, in great detail
Day 21 - Another moment, in great detail
Day 22 - Something that upsets you, in great detail
Day 23 - Something that makes you feel better, in great detail
Day 24 - Something that makes you cry, in great detail
Day 25 - A first, in great detail
Day 26 - Your fears, in great detail
Day 27 - Your favorite place, in great detail
Day 28 - Something that you miss, in great detail
Day 29 - Your aspirations, in great detail
Day 30 - One last moment, in great detail