Tonight, I had a cup of tea and a beer with a good friend of mine. For the purposes of this anecdote, we'll call him Billy Bob.
Now before I go any further, I have a thought to divulge... Sometimes I fear all of my memories might be fake (now, now, don't click away just yet). But really, I worry everything before this moment could be a dream, because honestly, what the hell is out there to prove otherwise? But when I see Billy Bob, I see a glimmer of proof.
Because you see, Billy Bob is more than just a person, he's years of memories and stories. Memories and stories that only we've shared, and more importantly, memories and stories that are only real when the two of us are together. And if Billy Bob was to ever leave, then what's there to prove any of our experiences actually happened? Nothing. That's the point. I can only prove they're real because of him.
"Hey, You. Reader! Remember that time we were 14 and we got hit on at a laser tag place?" No...I guess you wouldn't. That only happened with Billy Bob.
"You! Sitting at the computer! Remember that time I broke your collar bone?" Nope. That's another Billy Bob story.
I guess as I'm getting older, I'm realizing that all the people who are close to me are more than just people. They're the physicalization of my life, and if god forbid one of them was to die, I now understand why part of me would die.
Tonight, Billy Bob and I sipped our tea, gulped our beer, forming another memory that the other six billion people on this planet will never know. That's something... And right after you finish this, you'll do the same.