His name is John

I'd be lying if I said that this year would be different. The same routines from last year were certainly on my mind.

"Hey, how've you been? Haven't gotten the chance to catch up with you." He texts and it gives me pause. I was thinking about talking with him again, but what would I say? A close friend once told me that there was "nothing to say", so he didn't say much when I tried to talk with him. Granted, I was a little disappointed at the time, and a little frustrated but it didn't invalidate his view.

"I'm alright. Just have a headache. Otherwise pretty good." - I'm still unsure about whether I want to talk to him or not. Honestly, I'm a little suspicious but I don't mention it. I don't really think there's any reason he'd talk to me first unless he wanted something, right? At least, previous history tells me so.

"My anxiety levels skyrocketed so I can't sleep but I keep yawning." He tells me nonchalantly, though we both know that I'm likely to ask for elaboration. It's something of a nuance that we both share and understand, but I'm not sure it's a good thing. We both have mannerisms which probably, make us intolerable and presumably insufferable at times. It's a wonder we still enjoy each others' company, actually. Between this, we crack a couple of lewd jokes, flirt briefly and for a moment, it's as though we never stopped talking. Even so, I'm still a little anxious. I'm pretty sure I still harbor a reasonable amount of resentment, but I don't share negative feelings with the people involved - it's unacceptable or maybe, unthinkable.

"I'm already eating so crappy." He complains, knowing probably, full well what I'm going to say. I quietly remind him that it's not like he was doing much in the holidays so a change in diet is probably not surprising. He agrees, but feels like he needs to put himself to a "higher standard", whatever that is. Honestly, it's one of the few things I admire about him, though I don't really admit it. His weight's always been a sensitive issue, and it's a taboo subject much like the word "buddy" is, for whatever reason. It feels odd self-censoring, especially with my kind of humor, my dry wit. Pushing the boundaries is something I enjoy doing but at the same time... it hurts a little when I go too far.

Conversation eventually drifts to his current boyfriend, and it's also getting quite late. For once, I decide to tell him I'm rather jealous. He laughs it off, saying that it's only been two days and that it's not really working out at the moment. I suppose my tiredness gets to me, and I admit that I haven't really had the confess to a close-ish friend. I outline the situation fully and whilst I don't expect a response, I get one anyway.

"Wait what? Bull. You've been in so many relationships!" He quips, as though my extensive backlog of exes is supposed to mean anything. I explain that I'm scared the friendship will be ruined if I say anything, and right now, that friendship is one of the most enjoyable things in my life.

At this point, it's really late, but I'm still contemplating everything in the bath. My suspicions have been alleviated at this point, mostly as I realise that for someone who doesn't talk much to people online, he talks to me a hell of a lot (comparatively). Simultaneously, I wonder why it feels acceptable to even open up to him. He's stubborn, abrasive, immature and absolutely unreliable. By all rights, I shouldn't even want to talk to him.

When did it get to the point where we're each others' confidants?

I used to hate him.