I wonder if there's an invisible age-ceiling, after which we are just supposed to magically develop bubble-wrap around our lives and grind through life alone. because sometimes, even when you want to be there for your friend, like i said in an earlier post, it's not always possible and/nor feasible. giving little notes of encouragement, chocolates here and there; are these just relics of more idealistic teenage years? since when did being nice to friends go out of fashion?
perhaps it's not so much that it went out of fashion per se; like i was telling Lingster that day, as we supposedly mature into adults and have more *important* worries, we're supposed to become stronger and more able to withstand emotional upheavals. or it's also entirely possible that, as we grow older, more and more skeletons appear, secrets that we're too ashamed to even tell our closest friends. and honestly, if all my friends were to come to me with a plethora of problems, i'll probably retreat into my invisible turtleshell and shiver. "Your father's brother's dog is having an affair with your second cousin twice removed?" (Inside joke with my ed psych 2 groupmates) but i try. seriously.
but of course i'm a hypocrite. even as i berate adulthood for taking away the confidences of friends, i keep my problems to myself, too. *shrug* we're all supposed to be mature adults, yes?
