I always knew growing up was highly overrated. There is probably a stack of papers touching the sky, containing the fine print, which no one bothers to read or warn you about when you’re in a rush to grow up and join the adult’s only club. And then when you’re initiated and the doors are locked, they finally tell you how bad it is and wish you luck in ominous voices. You would imagine having gone through it the adults would at least prepare their young or give them a skill set matching the horrors of growing up!
Why this sudden rant about growing up? Because right now, I hate being grown up and being responsible and having to move away from home because of the grown up task of getting married and because I’m missing my friends.
I’m missing randomly being able to meet the girls for a sandwich at our favourite roadside sandwich guy, hanging around malls making fun of the window displays and all the weird people, driving around playing terrible songs at loud volumes and sharing dirty jokes and laughing ourselves crazy over them. I’m missing the complicated borrowing and lending procedures we girls do when it comes to clothes, jewellery and books, the long telephone conversations we absolutely needed to have, the way we looked forward to having a girls evening out regardless of husbands, fiancés, boyfriends and crushes.
I’m missing the craziness my friends bring to my life. The support and presence I know is always there for me.
And even though I know I’m just a phone call away, I’m missing being there for my friends.
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