I remember when we were more than Facebook friends, carefully crafting replies to each other’s lives in status updates, searching for comment-garnering, hot button things to say in said statuses; before we needed the promise of anonymity and a box to be honest with one another. I can’t remember the last time you called, or if you even have my phone number. To be honest, I am forgetting what your voice sounds like. My memories of you and I play like silent movies with moodicons and internet vernacular subtitles. I smh, you lol, and we are both ROTFL, but over what? –My paper journal
Now, this isn’t directed at anyone in particular, so don’t get your hopes up that I am talking about you, but this has been on my mind lately. I am finally as grounded as I can be in my job and living situation, in my romantic relationship, and in my belief system, and I look up only to realize that at this phase in my life, I don’t have a close circle of friends around me, people I can call on to be there for me when I really need someone to talk to or someone needs to give me a good talking to. Someone who can keep a secret, share a pizza, watch girlie movies with, get our nails and hair done, exercise with. There aren’t any females that I really connect with on any meaningful levels.
I have a lot of facebook friends who used to be real friends, people I called on the phone and that called me, people who would pick up the phone when I had an “I hate life” status and call me to see what was going on. There are people I spent a lot of my life with, not just knowing them casually, but people that I clung to and that clung to me when we didn’t have anyone else. People you couldn’t have told me I wouldn’t always hear from or see.
I am not going to be one of those people to blame it all on Facebook, to say that people no longer know how to interact with real people socially because they spend so much time on Facebook, Twitter, and MySpace. I do think that Facebook allows you to keep your most shallow human connections alive; people who should have fallen away, like barnacles, are there commenting on your status like it’s ’93 all over again. But what about all those other people, people who I did actually like and spoke to? Is it the time tested process of people falling away who were only supposed to be a part of certain years and experience, or am I “losing” friends because of some other reason?
Females suck. They are petty. They stab each other in the back. They will slit another woman’s throat to get to her good man. They will scandalize your name behind your back and praise you to your face. They will hold on to your darkest secret and spill it when it will hurt you the most. They eat the nicer of their sex. They spend their entire lives trying to be just that much better than the next chick in stilletoes with a funky attitude and cute clothes. They starve themselves. They’re clingy. They’re jealous and suspicious and trust is hard to come by.
But women can be warm. They can be charming. They love with everything they have, even when it seems it’s not returned. They have an open couch and an open ear. They will fight for you. They buy you silly cards and your favorite ice cream to cheer you up. They let you know you don’t need a man. They tell you when you look great. They tell you when your man is doing dirt. They trust you with their children. They call you just to see how you are and talk for hours about the good old days. They take notes for you when you’re sick. They burn you copies of their new CDs when you’re broke and can’t afford it. They understand you even when you don’t make logical sense to anyone with a penis. They just know.
So, if you are a real friend, let me know. Call me. Send me a note. I’ll even accept a comment here or a Facebook message. Heck, if you want to start a support group for women who are too old for childish female games and would like to find real women to befriend, I’ll accept suggestions on getting that started too.
I’m going to go watch something on Netflix to review. My personal entries are random, rambling, and boring. I’ll try to do better.