Half Of An Avocado
It started in the back of a classroom. There were too many people and not enough seats at the large table everyone else sat around. I mean, we could have made room and sat with our peers, but we both came to our separate conclusions that it was not ideal. Not in a printmaking class.
At our university, art and design were small majors in a small department. We had a few classes together before this one, but we never really spoke. Sat right by each other, but never interacted. Because of our seating arrangements, this was going to have to be different.
We talked and talked and talked and complained and complained. Instant connection, instant friendship. People talk about love at first sight and falling madly in love immediately. I had a similar experience with this new friendship. We loved each other immediately.
It was easy to fall into. We both loved to laugh and travel and talk about the deep stuff. We were both photographers who had no idea what that even meant. We both needed each other, but never knew until we fell.
The field trips started for work and continued for fun. Then there were sleepovers and wine and dancing all night. There were also tons of tears, but I learned to deal with them.
There's just something so special about the friends you can call when you're bored and they'll come running. "I'm hungry, come get me," and "Let's go to Target," and "I need you to model for a book I'm publishing." It's all a whirlwind that needs to be cherished and needs to be sought after. These ride or die kind of friends keep you going.
But then she said she was leaving. Six months to the other side of the world. Australia was calling and I was stuck here, but we made the most of the time we had left, adventure after adventure. One near death experience and we knew there would be an us for a long time.
We started talking about tattoos towards the end and how much we loved them. We love each other and we love tattoos, sounds like a great recipe for forever. On one of our adventures, we drove right past a tattoo parlor. "Let's go ask how much it would be," turned into sitting in a chair getting half and avocado permanently wounded into the skin on my ankle. Did I pick it? No. Did the tattoo artist judge us? Probably. But I love my avocado and the avocado on my ankle. Who cared?
In a world that searches for love in all the wrong places, take a walk down to your nearest and dearest friend and dive right in. The water is so fine and the journey is so worth the trouble.
My avocado is coming back soon and I'm counting down the days until we'll be inseparable again. Love and friendships like these should never be thrown away and I don't think we plan on leaving each other anytime soon, which is for the best because I'd have to cut off my foot from the ankle down if she ever pissed me off enough to leave. I tell her that often.