Urban Dictionary defines the word, “best friend,” as an individual that you are very close to and know exceptionally well, or at least better than most people. You spend a lot of your free time in their company, talk to them on the phone regardless of whether it’s to complain or to vent about the absurdities of life, and try to cheer them up whenever they are feeling down. You’re always there to listen to their problems and give heartfelt advice, stand up for them when they cannot, and be their personal cheerleader for whatever they do, always accepting the crazy shenanigans that, face it, they are prone to.
Knowing all of this, my much loved bloggers, I would like to pose a question to you: is there such a thing as being too much of a best friend? Is it possible that you can know somebody too well, to the point where you are more sure about their morals, ethics, and beliefs than your own? Is it a bad thing if their thought process is as second nature to you as breathing, and sometimes you know what they think before they even have to tell you?
Personally, no, I don’t think that it is necessarily a bad thing. It is a potentially problematic situation though, because if you know a person to the point where you could have an entire conversation with them without even speaking, chances are that the relationship is going to get boring quickly. There’s no surprises anymore. The thrill of getting to know a new person is gone. You’ve already talked about everything in the world worth talking about, and there’s not even the option of having the, “So, how is your life?” conversation because you already know exactly how their life is, and then some.
I seem to have reached this point with Jasmine.
Actually, I lied. Not only have I reached this point with Jasmine, but I have reached it with the majority of my inner circle of friends. I know all of them too well, as much as I hate to say it. Not only do I know them too well, though, but I’ve even reached the point with some of my closest, best friends where their presence physically annoys me! Out of the blue, I cannot stand to be around them. I avoid them. When they talk to me, I try to be polite and sincere about listening what they have to say, but at the same time my replies to their queries and statements are shorter than the iPod Nano I’m itching to get away. My blood is boiling at their voice. Just get, get, get, get away from me!
The obvious answer to this predicament is to give my dearest, most loved friends a rest and try to socialize with new people for a while. The problem is, though, I’ve been doing this for the past few months. Since winter season started, to be precise. Just about every person on the swim team I have become friends with this year, and some of them, extremely good friends. All these weeks I’ve been hanging out with them after practice and miscellaneous swimming events, being crazy teenagers and experiencing new ways of life that have been foreign to me before now.
It may be hard to believe, but just in one season I think I have fallen in love with these people.
The problem is, though, that last week the season ended, and suddenly the people that I have been spending hours with everyday are people that I occasionally see in the hallway and talk to on Facebook. It’s killing me. I love them so much, and they’re still so new to me, and all the sudden it’s like they’ve been taken away! And it’s only been a week. Not even a week, actually. Six days. Six lousy days.
I’m going insane.
I cannot bear to hang out with the people I’ve been spending my time with five to six days a week since eighth grade. What else am I supposed to do, though? Join another sport? I’m dreadful at everything except swimming! Plus, I’ve already MADE new friends that I actually LIKE and ENJOY being around. I am simply not adjusting to the fact that I am not seeing them for a few hours everyday very well.
Okay, “not adjusting very well,” is a bit of an understatement. Oh well.
Ugh. I’m so upset over this that I cannot even think straight. I just… I don’t know what to do. It hung out with them all Friday, at the end of the season, and it’s only Thursday night. I don’t want to seem like a complete stalker and send somebody a Facebook message (My cell phone broke last week, so no texting/calling for me*), and ask them to spend another one of t heir Fridays with dear Rosalie, even if it is with a group. Fuck. I know that there is a rule about this somewhere. How long do you wait to call somebody?
Maybe I just need a complete change of scenery. Maybe I need to move to New York City, where you never see the same person twice. That way people would always be new to me, and I’d never get tired of them. Ever. Like, everyday, new person. New. New. New. New. New.
The thrill. Of getting to know. A new person. Is like. Heroine.
I probably sound like a stalker-in-the-making right now.
(Am I?)
So I should probably sign off before my freaking out gets any worse.
(And go freak out privately.)
And learn to quit acting like such a melodramatic bitch.
(Like that is going to happen.)
Knowing all of this, my much loved bloggers, I would like to pose a question to you: is there such a thing as being too much of a best friend? Is it possible that you can know somebody too well, to the point where you are more sure about their morals, ethics, and beliefs than your own? Is it a bad thing if their thought process is as second nature to you as breathing, and sometimes you know what they think before they even have to tell you?
Personally, no, I don’t think that it is necessarily a bad thing. It is a potentially problematic situation though, because if you know a person to the point where you could have an entire conversation with them without even speaking, chances are that the relationship is going to get boring quickly. There’s no surprises anymore. The thrill of getting to know a new person is gone. You’ve already talked about everything in the world worth talking about, and there’s not even the option of having the, “So, how is your life?” conversation because you already know exactly how their life is, and then some.
I seem to have reached this point with Jasmine.
Actually, I lied. Not only have I reached this point with Jasmine, but I have reached it with the majority of my inner circle of friends. I know all of them too well, as much as I hate to say it. Not only do I know them too well, though, but I’ve even reached the point with some of my closest, best friends where their presence physically annoys me! Out of the blue, I cannot stand to be around them. I avoid them. When they talk to me, I try to be polite and sincere about listening what they have to say, but at the same time my replies to their queries and statements are shorter than the iPod Nano I’m itching to get away. My blood is boiling at their voice. Just get, get, get, get away from me!
The obvious answer to this predicament is to give my dearest, most loved friends a rest and try to socialize with new people for a while. The problem is, though, I’ve been doing this for the past few months. Since winter season started, to be precise. Just about every person on the swim team I have become friends with this year, and some of them, extremely good friends. All these weeks I’ve been hanging out with them after practice and miscellaneous swimming events, being crazy teenagers and experiencing new ways of life that have been foreign to me before now.
It may be hard to believe, but just in one season I think I have fallen in love with these people.
The problem is, though, that last week the season ended, and suddenly the people that I have been spending hours with everyday are people that I occasionally see in the hallway and talk to on Facebook. It’s killing me. I love them so much, and they’re still so new to me, and all the sudden it’s like they’ve been taken away! And it’s only been a week. Not even a week, actually. Six days. Six lousy days.
I’m going insane.
I cannot bear to hang out with the people I’ve been spending my time with five to six days a week since eighth grade. What else am I supposed to do, though? Join another sport? I’m dreadful at everything except swimming! Plus, I’ve already MADE new friends that I actually LIKE and ENJOY being around. I am simply not adjusting to the fact that I am not seeing them for a few hours everyday very well.
Okay, “not adjusting very well,” is a bit of an understatement. Oh well.
Ugh. I’m so upset over this that I cannot even think straight. I just… I don’t know what to do. It hung out with them all Friday, at the end of the season, and it’s only Thursday night. I don’t want to seem like a complete stalker and send somebody a Facebook message (My cell phone broke last week, so no texting/calling for me*), and ask them to spend another one of t heir Fridays with dear Rosalie, even if it is with a group. Fuck. I know that there is a rule about this somewhere. How long do you wait to call somebody?
Maybe I just need a complete change of scenery. Maybe I need to move to New York City, where you never see the same person twice. That way people would always be new to me, and I’d never get tired of them. Ever. Like, everyday, new person. New. New. New. New. New.
The thrill. Of getting to know. A new person. Is like. Heroine.
I probably sound like a stalker-in-the-making right now.
(Am I?)
So I should probably sign off before my freaking out gets any worse.
(And go freak out privately.)
And learn to quit acting like such a melodramatic bitch.
(Like that is going to happen.)
---------------------------------------------
* Which is probably contributing to my paranoia?
* Which is probably contributing to my paranoia?
1 .commentary from the peanut gallery.:
Thank goodness; I had begun to feel a bit of an inconceivable bitch, until I read this and let out a sigh of relief.
I know what my dearest friends are thinking about three days before they think it. They have a spare pair of pyjamas already waiting for me when I reach their houses because I always forget, without fail.
While these are the adorable, bestfriend things that we all see in the movies, there's times when I'll have been on the phone for an hour, desperately searching for an excuse to get out of the increasingly dull and predictable phone conversations we have.
I think, possibly, maybe, we might all be growing up. Shudder.
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