I Swear it was easier when I was younger.
Being a good friend and being a good “adult friend” is quite far apart, nonidentical I might add. I came to this realisation when I became uninvited, when my personal success became the topic of gossip in the mouths of the people I met in the journey of becoming an adult.
Childhood made friendship seem bliss. If you had sweets and outsider eyes glaring at them, the moment you shared that was your Main B****. I wrote letters with gel pens, flowers, cut out hearts all to friends sitting literally centimetres apart. As time went by partying and and getting by was how bonds were made and broken. Those don't last forever, making friends becomes a whole new game.
Now I’m 21, building my brand, I have a job and responsibilities that lay far beyond drunken nights and impulsive decisions. Time goes by with a blink of an eye. With every minute of hard work and adulthood, good is coming my way. I am the person I want to be (in the making) and to those around me I have become invisible, coffee and chats are not good enough for the liqueur scent escaping their mouths. Schedules change. We all strive for different things, have different things, some more than others, but the truth is the adult life has become a consuming tomb.
Don’t get me wrong not all adult friendships are hard, making them is a tiny bit harder. But I’m sure that the adult friends understand since they are all in that space in time. They are considerate of our work-induced black-hole of seclusion, when we choose an early night in bed with tea over the buzzing under city lights.
This does not mean I am giving up. I have a number of gel pens and written cards that I intend to send out once I actually get to the point of buying stamps. There are old friendships I cherish and one day if it’s worth it they will get there colourful cards in the mail.