This story is hard to begin, probably because this has only happened to me one other time in my life. I was 17 and having sushi alone in a seedy cube of a ‘restaurant’ wedged between a hairdresser and a neighbourhood gynaecologist.
Back then, I had only been just introduced to her for a brief 10 minutes before texting her half my life’s tragedy and the horrors that were my relationship. I don’t know what kind of reply I expected, but it wasn’t an “Okay, that’s cool. You’re cool.”
Nat’s been my best friend for (nearly) the past decade.
I talked about being an ambivert in another post of mine, but I left out the part about making human connections. Meeting people is not hard for me, but I’ve realised that my acquaintance-ships over the years usually fade away with people whom I’ve never felt that elusive spark with.
The instantaneous connection I felt with Nat was one in a million, and it’s probably fair to say that she’s the only friend I have. It’s a know-it-or-blow-it feeling, no sitting on the fence about it. You know it when you feel it – A fiery ‘oh my god’ moment which takes you a full second to realise how much you have in common with this person, yet nothing at all. Your ideas and takes on the world kind of line up neatly like Matryoshka dolls in a row, and suddenly being the weird, anti-social self that you are, don’t seem all that a bad thing anymore.
Today I met a girl, and it was in the middle of a Nasi-Goreng sweat amid Singaporean weather, where I felt for the first time since I started working, less alone. The way she talked about her insane dating life, her immigrant parents, her art, the way she loved eating lunch alone and needed time to recuperate and recharge after each social outing – I got it, and the conversation just flowed. No forced topic-searching or mundane weather-talk; this was what just came to mind.
It didn’t feel tiring to talk to her, it felt natural. Like something clicked in place.