That's Life

For someone who thinks a lot - I didn't think I'd come to this. Not now, at least. It seems as though the anarchy of thoughts messing with my head have died down. I became accustomed to writing about the calamities of my life, tearing at my mind that I don't know where to start in recounting the good that have occurred. So, what can I say? Life's great. The aspects of friends, family, school and me are close to balanced.

School Certificate is just around the corner. Surprisingly, I'm not all that fussed about it. After all, it's not going to determine the rest of my life. I see it more as an indication as to how I'm doing; whether I should keep up the good work or lift my game a little.

Family. It's an iffy subject for me. I haven't heard from my Dad in ages; you get used to that. I love my mum. When I grow up, I want to be like her. Unlike other parents, she isn't the overpowering type. Her judgements aren't made from tha basis of:"Because I said so". She'll step down from the parenting platform and consider seeing things through my eyes. She understands me. She laughs at the stupidest things, so now we all know where I get that from. I have her hands.

Oh how I adore the friends, my true loves! I've learnt a lesson that most people don't discover till after they've graduated: It doesn't matter how popular you are...
Can you honestly say that all three hundred-or-so of those affiliations know, at the very least, your favourite colour?
Can you confidently appoint any one of them at random to organise your wedding - catering to perfection your taste?
Can you sincerely depend on all those people to provide an accurate, touching and emotional speech at your funeral?

Most likely, the answer is no.
Not everyone that you consider a friend will know your favourite colour. It's a minority that can back up their argument in saying you prefer hot pink to baby pink, and that your room is an overstatement to colour favouritism.
A staggering 99% of people you consider a friend are not qualified enough to organise something as important as your wedding. They don't know if you're spontaneous enough to be up for a bare-naked wedding, or a person of simplicity to want a small wedding in a pretty little garden. They have no idea of what your taste in flowers is like, and you arrive to find a woodland inspired wed-lock ceremony.
Even less people would be able to deliver a captivating speech at your funeral. Oh yeah, I met her at a party. She seemed nice. She looked hot... what was her name again?
To your friends you're not just nice – you're one of the most amazing people they've ever met.
To your friends you're not just hot. They know of your insecurities: that you're self conscious about your big thighs and remember the time you tried making yourself throw up, and through it all…still think that you're beautiful.
Only your friends have an endless supply of anecdotes. That time you ran into a glass door. The times when the argument you're both engaged in loses seriousness because you start to sound like Cartmen from Southpark when you raise your voice. That time the both of you took over two hundred photos in one day, and cried when the camera broke a few weeks later.

In the end, it doesn't matter how many people recognise you when you're at a dance party or walking down the street. All you need to survive is a few people in your life that know you inside and out, can make you smile when you're on the verge of tears, speak for you as if you said the words yourself, and listen to the story you've told a thousand times without complaining.

Friends OVER boyfriends and UNDERstand that should anything happen between you and your man, it's the friends who were be there before, and will still be there after, all the tragedy. They saw you playing the role of Miss Independent - making the single life look good, watched you lose yourself like Eminem with someone you thought was different and put up with your crying when it was over. It's the life cycle of teenage drama. The worst thing you can do is push them away when a boy comes along, and pry them back when the boy walks away. Boyfriends come and go, but best friends are forever!