Attempt 1 to describe my friend

insanely artistic...

not the type of artistic that insinuates ‘bizarre’ or ‘special’ but the kind that only come around once in a while. The kind that makes you step back in awe. Kevin is an artist. Not like OCD me who must duplicate every insignificant detail of a photo onto paper, Kevin sees beauty and colour and light in his mind and transfers that onto any surface. That’s a true artist. It’s a talent I’ve always envied him for, seeing the world interperpectively and having the acute ability to express it to others however he wants. I realise I just made up the word ‘interperspectively’ and that it might be a slightly redundant compound, but I want to use it none the less.
Kevin and I have already decided that we’re going to have children. And they’re going to be hot.
I love names. And so does Kevin. And that’s probably why we’re friends.

Months can pass and Kevin and I can still function as if we’ve just seen each other without any second thought to why it took so long in the first place. I like that. Not that I like being apart, but knowing that nothing will falter or fade or weaken or break because of time.
Witty.
Kevin is witty.
I like witty. And that’s probably why we’re friends.
I’ve known Kevin since the first grade and I remember everything that made him who he was then and like to contrast it to everything he is now.
We lived on the same straight, opposite sides from each other. I think that’s fate.
And I think fate is why we’re friends.