Yes I am quite aware that those two words only sound slightly better in that same sentence as Shakespeare and tattoos but is before it will make sense shortly. I used to play chess very well, I still play chess but now very badly. In fact the only reason I play now is to spend time with one particular person, and guess what? I’m still terrible , he cleans the floor with me but that is beside the point. Most of the time the game isn’t even finished because I surrender due to the fact that within the first half-hour I’ve been put in check at least three times. He is hands-down my best friend,although “friend”doesn’t begin to explain things.
I don’t know what to say to start with about my other friend except to say that the word friend doesn’t exactly seem to fit him either. He works as a mechanic during the day but I think his heart lies in teaching Shotokan.. Being a teacher suits him, he is exceedingly patient and unfailingly kind
Both of these men go out of their way to look after me despite the miles between us. One lives almost 600 from me, and other is several thousand miles away. I’m not sure how far exactly but he lives in England so it’s quite a bit.Both guys have told me on more than one occasion that I am one of the bravest and toughest people they know. What they don’t fully grasp is that they help to make me that way. they are they the rocks I lean on when the ground under me shifts, the hands that pick me up off the ground if I trip and fall, the first people I want to tell about important things, good bad, or silly. Both say they are nothing special, but I disagree. The strength they see in me is in large part a mirror image of their own. The strength to speak with patience no matter how many times you have repeated yourself, to admit to human frailty, to listen even when it’s just screaming and tears, the ability to laugh at silly stuff and not care what people think. I love them both very much.