Who are your friends? The ones you hang out with at work? The people you see around your place? The ones you call every once in a while? Mine are the ones I can call at three at the morning with a problem. The ones I can be myself around.
I love my friends. I love everything about us. I love the way we are together. I love how we’re ‘us’ not ‘Afiah, Fuzzy, Hyper and Morbid’.
The things with friends is how messed up everyone gets when one falls out with the rest.
It’s begins innocently. A small snide remark, an ignored phone call. Then she stops talking. She changes. She’s not the same girl she was anymore. One day, there’s a blow-up. All the frustration comes out. There’s yelling, and finger-pointing, and nasty remarks. She says you’ve changed, you’ve turned into bitches, you’re not the same anymore. You’re sorely tempted to tell her to look at herself first, but you don’t like confrontations, so you refrain. You decide to ignore her in order to frustrate her into talking. Eventually, you grow apart and you can’t stand that. So one day, you go up to her and tell her what it’s like. You want to clear it out. you want to cut out everything that’s been happening lately and start afresh, but life’s not that easy. Everyone has a different way of clearing things out. They want answers, they want to know what’s been going on. You’re not like that. You don’t need explanations, you just need things to be the way they were earlier. So what do you do?
You leave the room and write a extremely depressed post about it.
