Friend

A description of one of my friends.

She’s different. 

That’s the first thing most people would say. That she’s different in a good, odd kind of way. Or perhaps it depends, on what you’ve said to her and what she’s said to you and how it all has gone down in the long run. Perhaps everyone’s perception of her is slightly particular because it is almost as if one can mould her very being with every word said. Or perhaps all people are different in their own way, no single person truly unique, and the stark contrast between the azure of her eyes and the concoction of blacks, browns and reds of her hair is nothing unusual. 

Her eyes. They’re blue, although that word alone doesn’t have the capacity to fully describe everything that they encompass. In the sunlight, they burn like two blue moons, but in the soft darkness of a room, they too soften, transitioning into a darkening night sky. In spite of this, one thing about them does not change; their steadiness. No matter how angry or excited or anxious the turmoil inside of her becomes, her eyes remain steady and tranquil. Rimmed with harsh streaks of black, her eyes seem to hold a whole world of their own. 

She is kind, there is no doubt about. It’s as if on instinct that she knows whether someone is in the right or in the wrong, and once she knows this, she knows how to act and what to say. Somehow, she knows the right things to say in every situation, regardless of the person involved. This can be seen through the advice and support that she provides to the people around her, advice that is based on her own wisdom, laid bare and blunt with no soft words to obscure the truth, expecting nothing in return. 

She does not go out of her way to offend someone, does not attack with blind range or without reason. Clever, is another word to describe her. She might not agree if you told her, but it is true that she knows her way around life, can with ease stand up for herself in a debate even if it is a foreign subject. Her common sense carries her through life; the ability to analyse situations and actions a talent rather than an ability.

Despite all of this, there is still the odd part of her. She isn’t insane, not exactly, although in some people’s opinions this is debatable. Although perhaps insane is just another word for restless, easily bored and distracted. It’s interesting, to say the least, being her friend. Her body seems to be constantly on the move, thrumming and pulsating with a consummating energy that cannot be contained. This energy is released through odd punches and pinches and slaps, irregular and strong but without malice.