A few nights ago I read about a minor league baseball team that is having a throwback night based on the 90's Nickelodeon game show, "Guts". For those not familiar (and shame on you, no matter your generation), "Guts" was a show in which contestants competed in extreme sports type challenges, the last one being climbing a massive, glowing rock wall. I always wanted to climb that wall...
Me: It was epic. I used to think I could climb that damn mountain better than any contestant
Then in junior high, my scrawny ass got to climb a rock wall for the first time. I couldn't make it halfway up a small damn mountain.
Me: And why did I even climb it? Bc Y wanted to flirt with the dude running the ride.
Me: Who turned out to be a homosexual.
Me: #TimeWellSpent
Friend: LMFAO. Tell her she owes you one.
Y and I be spending a lot of time together now that we're both single career gals and all. I relayed this convo to her and it prompted a walk down memory lane. When you have the same best friend for literally your entire life, going on 34 years now, you go through all kinds of crazy ish. And it all becomes a blur. When we were youngins, third or fourth grade I think, we were playing baseball in our backyard. The backyard at my childhood home was perfect for sports of all kinds, but especially baseball because it had an actual diamond. We had this soft sided bat that was everyone's favorite to use because you could hit the ball a long ass way. Turns out, you could also hit a human a hell of a long way with that bat. Depending on whose version of events you believe, I was either standing too close behind Y, or she exaggerated her swing and the follow through caught me right in the eye. I fell backwards, narrowly missing the metal rail of some stairs, and woke up the next day with a black eye. Oh yeah, and it was school picture day. Somewhere, my mom has that damn picture framed, black eye front and center. Y countered this story of abuse with her "emotional turmoil" (direct quote there) over my not being able to make it to prom, a prom I'd promised to take her to since our junior high days. She claims I did this because it was payback for that whole mountain climbing incident in those same junior high days, but I don't know what she be talking about. My rebuttal was when she (*cough* intentionally *cough*) broke my foot in college while we were moving. She, of course, denies it was intentional and instead chooses the victim shaming route, claiming I put myself in a position to have my foot broken. Back and forth our banter went, arguing over who did what to whom and what the motive was. And we had so much material to use against one another, things both of us had forgotten about until now. And it all left me with this overwhelming sense of gratitude. Even with the occasional abuse, I'm an unbelievably blessed to have been able to spend the last 34 years with this beautiful lady. She has been endlessly supportive of me, even when I've made terrible decisions, or when we both know I'm probably going to make a terrible decision. I've been fortunate to have many examples of unconditional love in my life, but hers is truly that ride or die type. This woman would kill for me (or, some days, kill me). She's the best friend one could ever hope to have and, for reasons I will never understand, I won the lottery to have her as my BFF. I'm a lucky dude, not everyone gets a friend like that. I said it before and I'll say it again, I absolutely adore her and I look forward to the next 34 years of debauchery, inappropriateness and, Fonz willing, murder.
