I’m not partial to Jellybeans.
When I was younger I adored all sorts of jellied sweets. All the luminescent capsules of tightly compacted sugar and those stringy laces packed with E numbers, but, as I grew older my fondness for sweets slowly diminished. My addiction for chocolate, however, is still swelling out of control. I have no idea where my sweet tooth has gone… maybe the dentist stole it? Man I hate dentists… but, yeah, I can’t stand sweets anymore. The colours are too vibrant and the sugar coating too tangy for me to handle… I don’t trust them… they are too artificial… not like chocolate… oh my beloved chocolate… Being little you don’t think about the health risks; you just gobble them up without a second thought. However, now that I am… ‘older’ I am incapable of putting them in my mouth, even holding them is beyond me. It’s a sign that my childhood has well and truly won its game of hide and seek…
WHERE ARE YOU HIDING, DAMMIT? COME BACK, I MISS YOU AND SO DO MY TEDDIES!
But not all Jellybeans are made of sugar, of course.
Yes – of course… shut up!
Some are magic.
Some are mastered in the art of Karate, some need two packets of hair dye to change their hair colour and some sing along to Paramore when they are angry.
Well… only one actually.
I met a Jellybean at university. She was living in the same student accommodation as me… In fact she was right next door! I didn’t realise at the time that she was a jellybean of course, like she would’ve made it that easy… she had an excellent disguise. It wasn’t until I really got to know her that I began to see through the human facade and glimpsed the quirky secrets within.
Alcohol has a funny bonding effect. It doesn’t always work, I mean, it more than usually patches over awkward situations… but when it does it can form unbreakable bonds that stand through all sorts of arguments and fallouts. She was my night-out companion; the only one that willingly jumped straight in and chugged down spirits and wine with me without a second thought. Extraordinary how immediate our friendship was; strangers who are randomly thrown together have to adapt quickly and my, how quickly we did adapt. I’m not saying others didn’t dive in as well, no sir, I have one other that banded with us almost as soon as we had (but her story is for another time… when she is back from Asia… possibly… depends if she brings back presents… hum…) but there was an instant connection between myself and the Jellybean.
I was the one who saved her from her door being locked. On that fateful day when we all moved in, I was the one who stepped up and showed her up for not being able to unlock a door… what a lovely first impression that must have been… ahhhhh… sweet sweet nostalgia…
ANYWAY, I was her hero, and from then on, her drinking companion.
We’ve done it all. We rated boys bum’s together, we created our own language; which was just banging on our adjoining wall really, until one of us eventually gave in and went to the other’s room. One time we each drank a whole bottle of wine on a night out to the union; we were SO shit faced that only one of us actually got in (me), who then subsequently fell over (twice), puked a few times before she was finally chucked out of the union (this being in the first 10mins) and stumbled back home to find said Jellybean on some stairs sucking face with an American footballer.
Wow what a ramble… Fun Times indeed.
I never knew you could recover from fallouts until I met her (and said other who has abandoned us for Asia…) usually the world would end and you couldn’t piece the shattered friendship back together. But with her (and also – her… lord it’s hard not to include said abandoner because we are something of a threesome…) it could always be fixed, we could always find the missing puzzle piece and jam it back together; it was easy. During the fallout however… HELL, UTTER UTTER HELL… the world would collapse briefly and all hope would appear taunt-like and abusive.
Ever had that kind of fallout before?
One that hurts so badly that it actually signifies just how much they mean to you?
Well it sucks. Literally, literally sucks balls. It’s like you’ve eaten a cracker and your throat is too dry to swallow, so much so that it’s like you are being struck when you breathe. That’s love, true love and it sucks when it’s broken.
BUT once mended, that argument is so effortlessly forgotten that it just transforms into an amusing anecdote which can be pulled out to tease, mock and reminisce whenever we like.
Much like a magnet my Jellybean attracts drama. Like wasps to a honey pot, flies to a piece of cake and ants to a picnic; it follows her and spoils her with its generosity. It lags behind, stalks her wherever she goes and only catches up with her when a semblance of normality seems, at last, in sight. I do not know how she copes. Her body’s stamina is astonishing. She soldiers on, never lets tragedy hold her back, with determination (and a little help from Pro Plus) she can withstand hours of work and any social plight. I have always admired her determination, even if at times it can be most inflexible and stubborn… humph… she never wavers from her opinions, she has the ability to trust in her own judgements; a trait I thoroughly wish I had…. but then, she studied Politics so it’s expected, in that kind of degree it’s mandatory to have strong opinions and a backbone to match.
She is the epitome of strength.
She is the modern day Amazon.
She is a force that even Mother Nature cannot withstand… a Jedi might though… but then Jedi’s can defeat anything, never cross a Jedi, they will own you.
She is… MY JELLYBEAN and I shall not eat her… because, like I said, I don’t like the taste of them and I much prefer them as friends anyway.