If we've ever spoken for more than an hour, then you would've without a doubt rolled your eyes at my plans to travel the world, settle on an island somewhere sipping a Baileys concoction, whilst holding on to bae's nether regions like a clutch.
It's long been a habit of mine to romanticise everywhere in the world apart from where I actually live. The phrase 'the grass is always greener on the other side' sounds like a mantra specifically made to sit snuggly on my birth certificate. I'm not sure where this habit came from, but I do know that some of it stems from not really have a childhood in one particular place (boohoo!). My mother loved to travel when I was younger, subsequently I had no choice but to follow her wherever she went. At around 5, I hadn't quite mastered the art of speaking the correct languages in the places they were meant for. So one day the nursery teacher called my mother to report that I kept teaching Twi to the other kids, she said 'could you [my mother] teach her to speak dutch only when she's in kindergarten'...Or in either effect it went a little more like 'in Nederlandse spreken wij Nederlands'. To which my mother promptly, and in the most poshest Dutch accents told her where to shove her requests.
But I completely digress (as always), the point is, having lived in quite a few places from a young age, often for only 3 short years at a time, I have yet to call cultivate friendships so that they last a little longer than a couple of years. Even now, my friendships tend to last around a year or two, maybe three if I can magically sustain the initial excitement of finding someone I completely adore. It's why, when I meet people at events I'm (unconsciously?) usually a little more extraverted, because my mind is like 'sheeeiitt, I'm never seeing you again, so might as well make the best of it'. It then catches me off guard when I begin to actually want them for the long haul. As a youngin' I never thought of relationships as anything that I should cultivate or cherish, simply because I knew that in a short time I would be gone again. Of course, there would always be the usual 'Please call me!' or 'We have to email every weekend', to which I'd usually nod, smile and snigger, knowing that I wouldn't be doing any of those things.
I suppose in retrospect, it isn't so much that I wouldn't like a long-term thing, because I fiercely envy people who have childhood friends. Rather, it's often exhausting. Moving away means that it's difficult to truly know people. Your experience of that person may only ever be positive, your friendship is not often tested in a short term relationship, and when something bad happens, it's harder to so reconcile. So I'm very impatient, and as soon as I'm offended, I cut the person off! Of course, this trait is nothing to boast about, but it's comfortable.
I remember my first serious-ish relationship (really it was laughable). 'No no no babes! Just grab my boob and lets make out', I said as he tried to get me think seriously about him, about us. apart from the fact that I was even too young to make such a heavy decision, my first thought was that I was actually not going to be in the country for very long, and this thing we had was purely romantic. It's not you, it's me, I thought to tell him, in the end it was something cowardly along the lines of 'oh uhm I have to focus on my studies kthnxbye'.
As a kid, playing by myself was always fun, and even now, I do still enjoy being alone. Except, living this kind of life you start to build really crazy dialogues in your head. It's great, if like me, you're a creative, not so great when you start to talk to yourself in public. But above all, I think I've become bored. Like the kid with not enough lego pieces, I really want more. I always thought that I would become that artisan in the middle of Norway just painting and drawing with two cats and a wide-brimmed velvet hat. It's all quite funny, don't you think? How you think you're one way, maybe through your upbringing or external influences, but then halfway through belting an Esperanza Spalding solo chorus, you suddenly find solace in twerking with your girlfriends to 'rack city bitch, rack rack city bitch'. I mean to say that in view of all this, I have people that I call friends now, and am committed to. Plus these women will whoop my ass, drag me by the hair and set me on fire if I do leave them, without notice or otherwise—in order words, bishh your ass is mine. *
cries in pink glitter*
In effect, this is an ode to my girlfriends. I've never had friendships like this before. I think this can be largely attributed to the fact that all our experiences are similar, if not identical. We get angry about the same things, laugh and cry about subjects nobody else would understand. I never miss the opportunity to tell them how fiercely protective and loving I am of them, and vice versa. Maybe that was what was missing before in all my friendships. There is a new passion and determination we all have that binds us together. Very often we come to relationships with so much emotional baggage and having someone who can handle that and knows what you mean, is really priceless.
Honourable Mentions: The ever expanding list!
Apparently, it's National Friends Day today. ETA. Despite this list, I don't believe in the 'No new friends' mantra. If we kick it—we're claiming each other. Less cliques, more chicks. Be nice.