There are two defining moments in a girls life. The first time she admits she's finally made real friends, and the first time she admits to herself that some of them would rather spend time with their boyfriends over her.
In primary school our best friends were the girls you played handball and netball with, the girls you belted out songs by the Spice Girls with, while puppetting mini Cabbage Patch Dolls on a stage made out of lunchboxes. By graduation, have we lost the plot?
Whatever happened to the dream of the girls only road trip? It was traded in for the vision of endless nights of undisturbed quality time with the boyfriend.
We've become a society of dumpers. Dumped the family for the friends who are so much cooler. Dumped the friends for the boyfriend who calls you beautiful. Funny thing is, your friends have been calling you just that for years. Being cheated on by a boyfriend sounds like spilt milk compared to this kind of ultimate betrayal. It makes me not want to make a new friend again.
Don't get me wrong. I'm happy for the friends in love, the friends who've loved and the friends anticipating love. But personally, if love means that I'll subconsciously end up abandoning my family and friends – no thanks, maybe next lifetime.
I've never been one to make my boyfriend my best friend. So maybe I've risked my chances of ever finding a 'soulmate' but the comfort of friendship is so much more reassuring to me.
I'm safe when I'm in a relationship and know that if we broke up, I'd have someone to call in the middle of the night who'll listen to me through sobs about why it had to come to this.
Romeo and Juliet ain't got shit on Romy and Michelle.
