"Stop disturbing me", that's her usual line any time either of us call the other. She's Sunmi. She's one of the few people I to see as and call my close friends. Her let-me-be demeanor gets to me more as the years pile. It shouldn't really, but it does. It shouldn't, because that was one of the striking things about her that drew me to her half a decade ago.
I was in a cab going to class. I was in my final year. And I was late that particular morning. As such, my thoughts were occupied with what excuse would get me into Dr Adediran's class. You see, Dr Adediran is one of those lecturers you do not want to get on his bad side. It was my final year and coming that, almost touching the finish line to such rigorous academic race, I didn't with to get a sprain in the guise of being, or more like me saying thinking I was being, victimised by a lecturer. And right on the sidewalk was something that got my mind off my worries.
It was someone. It was a lady in her early twenties, blue top, blue jeans, Chubby cheeks, nice shape, but all that didn't get me as much as her aura did. No, it wasn't that that shouts of confidence, it was one of loneliness. And I was drawn to it like you'd be drawn to a Dan Brown's book (if you're into books like that). Yes, that's more like a good way to describe the attraction. I was attracted by the energy that was swirling round this lady. It was like a big thick sphère of loneliness moving her. And at that moment, I knew I had found someone that I could understand how he (well, in this case, she) feels.
And back to the present, I'm still pulled; thrilled by that circle. The friendship the solitude had born. One that'd last this long, one that has endured several wet eyes, deserting; one that's been stretched to the limits of friendship.
I did not alight from the car. Neither did I tell the driver to slow down (he'd never have done that anyway). I took my time to look at her as the car approached her and turned back to keep looking as she faded into the distance. She looked disattached from the world around her; seemed oblivious to the earth she tried. I did not know if I'd see her again, but I knew I'd pay to know what she felt, her experience, her solitude. Little did I know, that this would end up forming the basis of our friendship.
Looking through time, back to that moment, and events that have happened in between, questions on friendship ripple through my mind. Is friendship one-sided? Or double-edged? Why would one say you should have known me by now? You should know this is who I am? Don't you know despite my letting you in, I still cherish being alone, the only one "in"?