Glass

So you know how for everyone we know there's a glass in our head?
It's a popculture theory, one from 'How I Met Your Mother' in that one particular episode where everytime somebody realizes something new (and sucky) about someone around them they hear a glass crash which basically means it's something they can never unsee.
I assume for most people this glass is a bottle of rum. For me it's a huge pane (and pain). Here's why:

I am a major asshole. When the glass crashes (I swear, I hear it happen), it leaves me very awkward and uncomfortable. Also even though saying it makes me hollower, it leaves me detached.  Now given that I generally fall head over heels in love with the new bonds I make and go through a routine of mild depression when I have to part, this is either really OOC or amazingly bipolar of me. I don't mean to do it, but let's face it I'm extremely blunt and truthful in life. If I like you, I'll go out of my way to let you know- shamelessly and even  creepily as a dear friend once told me. But if I dislike you and am forced to hang around you still, there is no way you're not getting a whiff of my displeasure of your company. It's not something I'm very proud of when it hurts people but I often give myself the right to decide who had it coming.

One of the major reasons of the glasscrash is when the person in front of me turns out or starts acting lame. That's ironic considering I'm so lame myself (especially when I'm high) but the absolute lack of a person to have a decent conversation is what breaks the deal with these people. Just bad jokes is fine, I appreciate them. People who laugh at their own jokes when nobody else does is a big no-no. There's a friend I had for about two-three years until I realized how lame he acts in a crowd and CRASH. I've tried my best to mend it but it's never been the same since. There's also people I've completely distanced myself from post the glass crash and left them wondering what went wrong. Like my first girlfriend.
(Again, this is not something I'm proud of. I suck and I accept that and I know I shouldn't be doing this to people.)

Some people do manage to survive the glass crash though and I can proudly say that two of my closest friends today are someone who's glasscrash I looked past. My glasses are fragile things, extra-fragile in fact because it doesn't take much for them to collapse.

It's not like the glass can't be rebuilt. I had a friend who would hurl at the glass like she was in a bowling alley and everytime I would gather the pieces and create a marred but still complete version of the glass. It doesn't exactly work. In the end I had to run a bulldozer over it.

There's been times I have had the chance to be gifted a whole new glass a few months post the breaking. These are people I have gone on the really like, hate and then love. In times like these then, I'm really grateful of my shortcomings because they give rise to something much beautiful. This friend I heard something really annoying and stupid about yesterday is one such person. But I heard that thing, it was like two tiny people who walked into my mind at the same time, lifted the glass pane and just gave me 'Please, we're taking this away' look before walking out.

This other friend I recently made had to leave for another city in two weeks and the good part was, that he left before the glass crashed. It kind of puts a good tag on me missing the guy because it takes away the opportunity of being an ass from me.

Now here's the friend I really want to talk about. She and I have been friends for three years. She and I fight about once a year customarily. She is the most significant thing in my life, much over my own mother and the girl I love. She is all the right things to me.
If she has a glass I've never seen it. It's probably completely transparent AND permeable. As well as bullet proof. It's a glass I wish I could have for everyone. And yet I know, what I have with her, I can't have with anyone in the world.
After two months of barely seeing her at all, I saw her for two whole days from day before. Laughed until my stomach hurt, cried, got high, met a random friend and laughed with him, went to Prithvi, had too many cigarettes, laughed some more - you know the drill. I had been super-extra-low for the last four to five days. Like a lot. Maybe it's the year end, maybe it's the end of too many good things, maybe it's the realization of the too many good things I had and continue to have.
And yet there I was, sitting in a rickshaw, the cold cold wind on my face, on the western express highway, right after I had dropped her home. There I was, breathing free, no knot in my stomach, no incessant need to look at my phone, just smiling like an idiot.
All thanks to the bullet-proof, permeable glass.