Topic: Friendship
A friend had once asked me a question before we parted our ways. "If the boat was sinking, who would you save? The person who saved your life once, or your best friend?"
It was a difficult question, to be honest. It was either the sense of gratitude or years of joy brought by said best friend. If sacrificing yourself was an option, you would take it, but there is no such option. No matter who is lost, the feeling of guilt lingers. But the more I pondered about the answer, the more the blurry image came into focus.
I choose my best friend. The person may have saved my life once but my best friend had saved my life a thousand times. From school, from despair and sometimes, from myself.
My best friend was there to drag me away from the carnage of my own thoughts. A place filled with never-ending plot-twists that worked on its own when left alone. She was the first to see through my unclever trick of using a hat to shield my tears when I thought no one was watching.
To lose my best friend is to suffer death a thousand times. Because life would have been bad by default if it wasn't for you. You, who saved my life, a thousand times.
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