12.21.12: Dylan

One of my best friends that I've known literally since I was born asked me to write a little story about him and include five specific things of his choosing into the story. Try and see if you can figure out the five things:

We didn’t have a choice when it came to our friendship. We were forced together by our mothers who had become fast best friends in college. He was six months older than I was and to this day, he doesn’t let me forget it. He never talks down to me, though. He’s mature like that. He was big into sports. His favorite was baseball and he even played for a little while in college. He tried to teach me once. I hated it. I told him that it was too boring for me. All he did was laugh and ruffle my hair.

Now we’re 19 and 20 and he’s still trying to teach me things. Sometimes I listen…and sometimes I don’t. I know that it’s probably in my best interest to take his advice (he has been on this Earth longer, after all…by six months…) but sometimes I just forget. His latest lesson was nutrition. He was in college to learn and teach people how to properly eat and be in the best shape possible. I forget the word for it. It wasn’t a dietician. Not a neutralist. Uhm…I’ll think of it later. Anyway, he was trying to prepare me for my upcoming college lacrosse season. A sports nutritionist! That’s what he was. Anyway, his favorite thing to do was move cars. Yeah, you heard me right. I asked him if he could teach me to move cars, too. He said no. I probably should’ve listened to him beforehand I guess. Lifting was kind of his thing and I kind of wanted to follow in his footsteps. He was inspirational like that. He said that he needed to teach me technique first. So he did. And I listened this time. I still haven’t moved a car yet, though.

He taught me a lot. But I taught him some, too. My best lesson to date was girls. He needed some help. He’d also kill me for telling you that. He was pretty smooth on his own but I made him smoother than ice that had just had the zammbonie go over it.

We helped each other out a lot without realizing it, I think. I turned to him in my time of need and he turned to me in his. We might not be related by blood, but we were related in every other sense of the word. I knew at the end of the day that he had my back and he knew that I had his.