I Don’t Have a Best Friend

A rant about people and connections

Rodrigo Rivera

I wish I knew someone who thought of me as their best friend.

Can there really be such a thing? What even is a best friend? If we understood friendship as a ranking point system for people, do best friends manifest when two people’s highest scored friends happen to be each other? Even then, how do you make that known to someone? Is there a ritual, a question, a turning point?

More importantly, I don’t think I even fully know what I’m asking for. You see, in my mind, a best friend is someone whose company you enjoy a lot, who truly cares about you, and who you trust more than anyone else you know. Movies and books taught me a best friend is someone who comes over just to spend time with you, who you go on adventures with, who has seen the best and worst in you, and who still loves you. A best friend is, supposedly, a person with whom you just “click” because they’re the best at everything you could want in a friend; they understand you like no one else could. That’s why they’re the “best.”

Putting this into words, though, makes me wonder—I don’t think people work like that, and I don’t think a person like that could or should exist. Do I really want someone that’s the best at understanding every single facet of my being? Because in that case, I should just clone myself. Realistically speaking, I’m sure I would get bored of that person pretty quickly. The only way in which to “click” at everything is to think the exact same way, all the time, for everything. And where’s the fun in that? Why would I want to get to know them if I already had all the answers? Why would they want to get to know me?

I’m not even the same person all of the time! I’m a complex being, just like anyone else. Depending on the context and situation, I could think in a certain way, and I could very easily contradict myself later down the week. Moreover, even at a single snapshot in time, I’ll keep being the sum of all my identities, values, and experiences, which will often mix, argue, be loud or stay silent in unpredictable and unrelated ways. How could that hypothetical person possibly keep up? Who says only one person can be the best at being my friend in every way, anyways?

I’m thinking of all the friends I’ve made in this first year of college, and honestly, it’s like comparing apples to oranges. Maybe it works for some people, but I don’t know if I could just denominate one of my friends as the best. How should I choose a favourite when I love my friends for completely different reasons, and when each of our dynamics are so different from one another? 

I realize now, I have a different best friend for when I want to be serious, and one for when I want to be unhinged; one for when I want to discuss ethics, and for when I want to get sidetracked with the silliest scenarios; one for when I feel more creative and musical, and another for when I’m feeling more studious and focused; one for when I want to teach and inspire, and one for when I want to sit back and be impressed; one with which to complain about the world, and one with which to daydream about what the future awaits. What I’m trying to say is, the unique contrasting complexity between two people grants each and every individual friendship specific elements that shine more intensely than those present in any other.

So, while I may sometimes romanticize the idea of a perfect best friend who I’ll never have to second guess because we’re always on the same wavelength, there is no single person who could possibly check all the boxes. Still, that does not strip away the profoundness and meaningfulness of those other friendships. It just means we’re all our own complicated individuals, which is exactly what makes creating connections so beautiful in the first place.

I hope I will always have several people who I can call my best friends.