It’s OK To Lose Friends
I thought I was an adult at 18, at 19, at 20. Aging means realizing how you never really knew it all.
Nothing is stable at this age. I know this, but I must remind myself of it on a regular basis. 24 is feeling young, but having responsibility. 24 is remembering high school, remembering college, but no longer feeling secure in one’s youth.
Age changes friendship. Time changes friendship. The ones that are meant to last, do last. I told Marion, “I miss spending time with them. I miss seeing them.”
“Was your friendship strong when you were younger?” she asked.
But then I remember how it was weak even then. I remember the things I wrote in my journal, the frustration, that constant void. I wrote a zine and kept it to myself at age 19 titled, “All My Friends Are Bad Habits.”
She said, I like your style. He said, I like your taste in music. She said, let’s go the party. He said, let’s get drunk. I said, let’s get some coffee. They said, …
I thought the party last week would be fun, but I ran into someone I hadn’t seen in years, and I needed to leave. A lack of emotional reasoning means that I react first and think later.
I stood in the middle of the room and thought, “I need to talk about this to someone.” But then I remembered that I was there with a group of new male friends, and that our friendship had not reached that level of emotional intimacy.
Sometimes I think that as I make new friends and acquaintances at this age, I must also abandon the idea of that closeness that develops when you haven’t seen much of the world. When you don’t know much of anything, you stay close to the people that are familiar, that have always been true. I don’t know what this is but I have you and that’s good enough for me.
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Meeting the right person on a double date, where your shared sense of humor and maybe-a-little-obsessed love of social media brings you together instantly, sounds pretty ideal. Unless, of course, it’s the other person’s date you’re falling for.
My childhood world was a fraternity house gone adolescent — compounded by the death of my mom when I was 14. And while I knew love in abundance, I didn’t know a thing about girls.
I had fallen into a deep sleep and entered into a realm that transcended dreams or realities. I found myself in a room surrounded by four white walls.
4. I would rather listen to an entire album by Rebecca Black than hear your voice.