As promised yesterday, I will, for various reasons, start writing about whatever has been happening lately in my life. I am doing it as a form of therapy – not saying something went wrong somewhere and I’m using writing as some sort of pills -, but it is widely known that writing helps you focus more on things that require focus. So today I am going to write about friends, my friends and my views on friendship. Ha.

I used to be a popular kid, for again various reasons. While those around me appreciated me for my sense of humour and (debatable) intelligence, those that weren’t around me didn’t like me for the very exact reasons – being outspoken and not very scared of putting that look on my face, you know, the ‘YOU ARE SO STUPID’. (Kids are known to be honest). It is safe to say I wasn’t a likeable child, and if I ever have children, I hope they will somehow follow my footsteps.

Regardless, as mentioned, I had many friends. Sure, as a kid back then it wasn’t hard to make new friends; all you ever had to do was go out and start randomly playing with someone. And bang bang, there you had it, a new companion to spend time with. I gladly remember my childhood friends and thank them for some amazing times together, we formed a band, also pretended to be actors, athletes, we would come back from school just to play until the evening would come and we had to go back home. Those were incredible times I could never forget and I am pretty sure the memories are still there in everyone’s minds.

But just like any kid does, we all grew up. I grew up too, and I am not having any difficulty in admitting that, while growing up, I became sort of difficult. I can’t precisely tell WHY, but it simply happened. I was around 14 when I started changing my views on people, for better or for worse, I started listening to bands my friends would call ‘weird’, some of my friends had already started highschool so the different tastes weren’t the only issue. A very important factor would start ringing in: time. We simply didn’t have the time to see each others as frequently as we used to.

15 years old and there I go leaving the country for what I thought would be for good. I remember being so excited about me and my family moving to Spain, thinking everything would change and I would forever leave the happy, comforting life I had wanted and dreamed of. Except that nothing ever is what it seems and the Spanish experience made me turn into an even darker teenager. And a fat one, while at it. HA. I can count on one hand the kids that I could consider buddies over there, and can’t think of a precise reason the others didn’t like me. Maybe it’s because I was the new kid in class, not only I was a kid but I was a ROMANIAN kid so that turns a potentially nice kid into a potentially dangerous threat… thing is I left Spain after only 8 months and went directly to highschool in the 9th grade.

Thankfully I was smart enough not to have huge expectations about my highschool, my classmates or how things would work. I knew how things were going to work and, for most of them, I was right. Everyone would look down on me for coming back from Spain as if I was some sort of rarity, the teachers would think I’m a genius and overall time spent in highschool would be shit. Friends? What friends.

I was only proven wrong by 3 classmates but unfortunately, we lost contact right now. I gladly remember them too, however I can’t say I am very excited to start caring about what’s happening with them right now. They made 10th grade easier to get through, but I’m pretty sure they are as well having a hard time remembering things as they were, just the way I’m typing these words trying to think of a nice memory that lasted through the years. Trying.

The 11th grade brought a lot of changes and new classmates. Being already sick and tired of it, I didn’t even try making new acquaintaces other than the ones I had, so another year, another time to be socially awkward for me. I had this classmate called Simona who used to be sooo goddamn annoying that I JUST HAD TO write about her on my former blog, another very interesting classmate we used to see rarely named Teodora… overall in front of me were 2 years I thought I would loathe.

Except that I haven’t. SOMEHOW, and don’t ask how because I can’t clearly remember it, I ended up becoming friends with Simona and Teodora. Simona, notice how I’m writing nice things about you? You can now stop telling everyone we meet that I used to hate you so much that I wrote about you on my old blog. Lies and fallacies. Back on topic, our friends group was larger than just the 3 of us but, for various reasons, they each followed their own road. Including the 3 of us, as Simona went to Bucharest, Teodora went across the country and back, and I stayed in my hometown. The nicest thing about a friendship though? It doesn’t matter how often friends meet, if they feel as if they can still tell each other everything despite not always being together… that’s how you know a friendship truly is a friendship and lasts the test of time.

We remained best friends and I highly doubt something could break this thing we’ve been building for a while now. True, we’ve had our arguments and sometimes we still do, but it’s because we care about each other so much that honesty comes as the most natural thing ever, and it’s drawn through our words and pieces of advice. I know for sure I won’t ever forget the countless nights me and Simona stayed up in our beds thinking, thinking, overthinking things so bad that our heads started hurting, and the fun thing it’s that we still do that. Fun. Not only that, but each and every time all of us go out, it just feels as if we’ve known each other for the longest time ever.

See, now I’m thinking that those times I isolated myself from the kids I didn’t feel like hanging out with… those were the times that led to these beautiful days and moments. I remember how they would ask me out and I was like ‘I am coming later’. or ‘I have homeworks’, or pretty much any other innocent excuse that would keep me away from having to spend time with people I felt having less and less things in common. One piece of advice that’s been oversaid and overheard tells us that we don’t have to change who we are in order to please others and, throughout the years, I stayed true to it. I know countless cases of people that only pretend to be friends just so they won’t have to spend time alone, or pretend to like someone just for the holidays… People that can’t stand each other yet they continuously hang out.

Thankfully I never had to pretend or fake those things. I never wanted to and I couldn’t be happier. It’s not the number of people you’re surrounded by that matters, in any shape or form, so don’t ever think that if you find yourself being lonely, you will remain so. Just stay true to who you are, or at least go out there and find people with common purposes, ideas and fantasies. You will be surprised, most likely. Find that one person that laughs at your jokes no matter how bad they are, that one person that makes you laugh until your stomach hurts, that one person you can share your wildest, craziest and deepest thoughts knowing they won’t judge. Find that one friend.

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