fandom_muses: Topic 42: Write about your best friend 320 words
My best friend. As if there's any question who that is. There's only one person stupid enough to put up with me. Why? Because he's more screwed up than I am. Do I get points for saying how tall he is, what color his eyes are, his hair? He likes Chinese food, spicy is better. He's attracted to neediness in people. That's probably what first attracted him to me.
We knew each other before I got sick. He's one of the leading Oncologists in the country, but my girl friend was the one who introduced us. I called him in for consults, we joined the same golf league. Doctors, you know. There's an unwritten law that doctors must play golf. You aren't taken seriously if you don't play golf. So we golfed together. He as't there the day it happened. He was out of town, on a conference.
Stacy must have called him. He would have dropped everything to come home, to be there for her when she needed him. That's just the way he is. And he makes it seem like it's genuine concern. It's not. It's his way of feeding his own selfish needs. because as long as he feels like people need him, he has a purpose. A reason. He's important.
When I pushed Stacy out of my life, he's the one who stepped up to the plate. He's the one who took every punishment I dished out in stride. He sat by my side, and he refused to give up or give in. Day and night, he was there, because I needed him. He'd never admit he's only hanging around now, waiting for me to need him again. I'm a miserable son of a bitch. I like wallowing in my misery. But sometimes it's too much, and I need him to pull me out of the hole I've created for myself. That's what he lives for.
We knew each other before I got sick. He's one of the leading Oncologists in the country, but my girl friend was the one who introduced us. I called him in for consults, we joined the same golf league. Doctors, you know. There's an unwritten law that doctors must play golf. You aren't taken seriously if you don't play golf. So we golfed together. He as't there the day it happened. He was out of town, on a conference.
Stacy must have called him. He would have dropped everything to come home, to be there for her when she needed him. That's just the way he is. And he makes it seem like it's genuine concern. It's not. It's his way of feeding his own selfish needs. because as long as he feels like people need him, he has a purpose. A reason. He's important.
When I pushed Stacy out of my life, he's the one who stepped up to the plate. He's the one who took every punishment I dished out in stride. He sat by my side, and he refused to give up or give in. Day and night, he was there, because I needed him. He'd never admit he's only hanging around now, waiting for me to need him again. I'm a miserable son of a bitch. I like wallowing in my misery. But sometimes it's too much, and I need him to pull me out of the hole I've created for myself. That's what he lives for.