maybe one day I can be like you

I have this friend. I wish I was her sometimes. There might be a little bit of envy on my part, but I try not to let on. I don't want the world to know my insecurities. She is full of life and thinks a lot about it. She is uniquely her own and is not out for caring about what someone else thinks. Her heart is bigger on the inside that the typical human type. She is fiercely independent yet completely relationally driven.

We went on a trip once to the ocean. She wore a conservative one piece bathing suit that was about 3 sizes to small. It fit more like a thong, her ass squeezing out of the sides. Her short "awkward" hair cut flopped around in the wind and stuck out in every which direction in small clumps. I sat on the beach in my bikini, sunning my skinny body on the sand, feeling insecure. And there she was out in the waves with the boys floating, flopping, flailing around with the biggest smile on her face, and she was staggeringly beautiful. She looked like life. I have known her for years but when I think of her, I picture her in that swimsuit traversing through the shallow waters next to me, trying to dodge the sea urchin filled bottoms . The African women working around us in their seaweed gardens, fully covered in the heat of the day, laughing at us making fools of ourselves in their workplace. But we were clueless and loved every minute of it. 

My friend has hiked some very big mountains though she doesn't look like an athlete, and once she ran a half marathon on a whim. I would have been too scared to look bad or even... the naughty "f" word; fail.  But the challenge was there, and she didn't care. Currently she lives in another country where she shits into a hole in the ground and has contracted malaria twice. She has slept on the streets in some of the roughest places in the world. I receive her emails now and then of heartbreaking accounts of what it means to love the unlovable; the prostitutes and the young. We all think that we have problems. I know I am quick to complain about my latest expenses or large heartbreak. But my friend, she lives it. I think they call it being in the throngs; sharing their beds, their food, their very lives. Its not an easy thing. Sometimes she gets pissed at the inability, the stupidity, the disadvantage. But she continues on without judgement and with more acceptance than I have ever been capable of. She is also one of the smartest women I know. She thinks for herself and doesn't believe things just because someone says its true, she searches and discovers and searches some more. She is my most honest friend. This is a beautiful gift that I treasure in her. When she speaks she doesn't give bull shit answers that sound pretty. When she listens she doesn't try to interject her opinion, or pretend like she understands if she doesn't. She is just there. Being a friend. "I know you are probably jealous of where I am in my life right now" she said to me the other day. Not because she was trying to be haughty or put together, but because she was being honest, and it was true. We laughed about this until I couldn't breathe anymore. Those are priceless moments- the ones to build a life on. Her independence carries her to the greatest adventures where she cultivates the richest relationships. 

She is my age, but when I grow up, I hope I can be just like her.