You could call them people. I call them friends.
The first speaks his mind blatantly. Swear words fall from his mouth like rain. He mostly doesn't care on who's hearing, and he wouldn't care if anyone was anyway. He is his own man, and hates being in boxes. He knows who he is, and he knows his weaknesses. He talked to me first - that in itself is a point in his favor. We randomly and suddenly became friends, how, I have no idea.
The second is a bucket of sunshine, which is a big contrast to the first, his friend, who's a downpour of rain. This one has to look hard for a flaw to find it. He's always grinning, no matter what the circumstance. I have yet to see him stressed or put out, which is a feat in the seventh week of college life.
My friendship with them is something I'd call strange. I never expected that I'd get along with people like them. Their combination makes up an atmosphere where one can be oneself, and doesn't have to pretend. I know that anything I say will be accepted because I am who I am, and I do not have to be anything else.
My Fil class has two redeeming factors.
And without them, I'd probably wasting away in the corner of Kostka 204.
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