I never really had a best friend growing up. I had good friends and a barkada, but no one who really became my rock. I guess that had to do with my non-desire to share my thoughts and feelings with someone else. Not that I was completely anti-social — I like to think I was quite the class clown — but I never had to deal with having to pour my heart out to someone else.
My best friend and I met in Grade 10. Well, technically we met in kinder when we were five, but we only became friends 11 years later. I never thought we’d become close the way we are now; she was a skater girl and I listened to Mariah. She was personable; I was the bossy class bitch who threw tantrums in public. Right before she came back to our school, I said (in front of her and a couple of other friends) “Oh, I don’t even want a new classmate.” Clearly I was kind of a snob. We started hanging together out of necessity — we were a class of just five — and became fast friends. When I think about it, maybe she was just being polite. We hung out more and more (mostly because my mom allowed me to be kaladkarin) and spent most of our formative teen years together.
I never thought I would have a girl as a best friend. I had always wanted a brother, someone with whom I could share “just dude things” growing up, like a fascination for cars and tech. I did have a couple of guy friends who taught me how to play DotA, Ragnarok, and how to trash talk in an Internet cafe. Not to be sexist about it, but what I eventually learned from my best gal changed my perspective more than any dude in my life did.