This is not a love story

this is a story about love

Buzz and Woody 10/05/2010

Filed under: Language — thisisnotalovestory1261 @ 11:53 am

What language do I speak? Simply stated; English. What language do I speak with my best friend? Well that’s a whole other story. When you know someone as well as the two of us do, you develop your own kind of language. Not to say that we sit around perfecting our Pig Latin; the words we use are in their truest form English, even though we are known for tacking a “ski” on the end of certain words. Often times, lines from movies come to have their own place in our vocabulary. The lines can mean something to us and something entirely different to other people which help us get away with a lot when we’re out in public. We have developed our own little language that is not different at all; it’s the exact same words that anyone else uses, but we use them in our own way.

The other more obvious fact is that she is my best friend, and I don’t monitor myself around her. When we get together, the language can get a little rough around the edges. There was a moment where I was in the middle of a particularly tense game of Super Smash Bro’s with my best friend, and my cell phone rang. Now to understand this story you must know, when it comes to Smash Bro’s we don’t play around and the language gets colourful to say a least. We paused the game for me to answer the phone and knowing it was my mom, I spoke the way I always do with her

“Yes I ate the carrots you sent up, no I won’t be home this weekend, I love you too, goodnight.”

My best friend looked at me and said “That was quite the change of pace.” I didn’t understand what she meant at first. Apparently right before I had answered the phone I’d let out my Smash Bro’s catch phrase when something doesn’t go my way “ah shitballs” that lead right into my “Hi mom” greeting. I had blurred “shitballs” and “mom” into the same sentence.  I always knew I spoke differently to my friends and family, but the shock that my mother had almost heard me say shitballs knocked me off my feet. If my mom had heard me say that word, it would have been my head on a silver platter. Not only did young ladies not use those kinds of words, but they also didn’t use them in front of their mothers. I’m supposed to respect my mom, and treat her as though she is my authority, thus I conduct myself as so. It’s not that I don’t respect my best friend; it’s just that we are young and goofy.

And on a more serious note, sometimes my best friend and I use no words at all, but it’s still a language to us. It’s in the way I don’t need to say a word for her to know exactly what I’m trying to tell her. There have been times when we’re at a party and something happens, it just takes a simple look, and she knows. She knows word for word what it is I’m trying to say and why it is important to me. Other times, I can’t think of something and I’ll literally just say “what’s that thing?” and she’ll know what that ‘thing’ is. There are moments when I’ve been hurt, and she doesn’t even need me to explain why I’m upset.  I don’t ever have to validate why I feel the way I do, and she doesn’t ask me to. We can sit in silence and know what is running through our heads. We can sit in a room full of people and be having a conversation all our own. It comes down to the simple fact that we speak the language of best friends, but only with one another. Using the Smash Bro’s catch phrases and other inside jokes outside our room is unacceptable.

latabledarc.com
Advertisements