I know I’ve mentioned it before but in junior high, I didn’t really have any friends. I mean, there were people that I saw and hung around with while in school, but for the most part I spent my days alone and my nights alone. It was not a happy time for me. Which is why when I finally accumulated a close group of friends, I wanted to hold onto them so tightly, and never let them go. Maybe I’ve been tainted by the four girls on Sex and the City, but for as long as I can remember I’ve wanted friends like that. Those people who you can turn to not matter what, and tell anything to.
The tough part about growing up is people, and friendships, change. Life is so different at twenty-two then at sixteen. You’ve fallen in love, you’ve graduated high school, you can drink legally. It’s a whole different world.
I think part of the reason I’ve been in such a funk lately is because of the fact I feel like my friendships are crumbling around me, and there really isn’t a whole lot I can do about that fact. I mean, I try. But the truth of the matter is there seems to be this wall between the people I love and me. And it’s not without trying to break it down: I try and keep communication going, but it’s always “I’ll call you later” or “I’ll be right back” and then nothing. No one else ever seems to be trying. It’s like I’m back in the eighth grade, spending my nights alone because no one wants to talk to me. And if eighth grade wasn’t painful enough the first time around, the second time is definitely worse.
This isn’t a new feeling. I’ve been feeling this way for a while. But it’s the fact that it’s the summer, a time which used to mean the most random of adventures, and here I am: alone in my room, remembering the times that were had and wishing so much to be able to surround myself with people that make me smile. There are so many pictures that I can obsess about of memories and moments past, but that’s all they are: memories. There is nothing solid for me to hold onto. I’m an outsider looking in, and it’s the worst feeling in the whole world.
Don’t think I’m ungrateful. I love that I have a best friend like Andrew, and he knows me better than anyone has ever known me. But the truth is, I need girlfriends. You can’t talk to your boyfriend about sex, or girl stuff in general. Okay, so maybe I could. But I want to have people in my life I can get together with, share a bottle of wine (or two), and gush about sex, and shoes, and stupid sappy stuff. I miss drunken summer memories with my best friends. And it hurts so much, because sometimes it feels like none of it happened at all, and I’m still that same fat eighth grader who had no friends, and who had to write exciting stories and friendship because she had no idea what it was like to have a real best friend.
I’m just not sure what the hell I’m supposed to do anymore. After eight years of friendship, I just don’t know what to do. That seems like far too many memories to just wash my hands of it and walk away. We’re talking some of my hardest moments shared. And, at the same time I think I literally may be driving myself crazy, or at the very least, torturing myself daily. If only friendships came with an instruction manual, or a reset button. Life would be a whole lot less complicated.