Miss being the Agony Aunt

On her 30th birthday, I told her on a video tape, that it was tough being her agony aunt. Now that she lies in the hospital, painfully paying for something she doesn’t deserve, I think otherwise. I realise that it was maybe listening to her was the simplest part of being best friends with her. That her incessant reliance on me for all troubles big and small, was the way of life for me. And at times I even felt handicapped if I was not the one asked for the proverbial advice. It’s exactly how I feel now.

Visiting her is painful, not because she is suffering, but because she of all the people I know in the world, doesn’t need to be on that white depressing hospital bed. I know for a fact that she will soon be Okay. She is recovering well and I thank god for some mercy.

The news has just hit my ears. She will undergo an operation for her hand, as if the head injury wasn’t bad enough. Yet, I know she will be okay soon, she bloody well be. It’s her duty to clog my ears with gossip, with her troubles and with everything happening in her life.

For so long as I have been this close to her, I have known exactly how she feels, why she does what she does. She says its “freaky,” how well I know her. Such is the predicament now that I see her staring at me and I don’t know what she is thinking. I have nothing to say to her, so I babble a few words like an idiot. Is she feeling the pain or does she want to say something. As I said, it’s a feeling of being handicapped.

She needs to get well soon. She needs to do it fast for me more than herself.