Buddies Addiction

Note: this post is not intended to offend any particular individual or group.

If you are the kind of person who don’t… I mean, can’t (stress pause here) hang out with too many people, e.g. a reserved person, like me, you are likely to be caught in what I would call a “buddies addiction”.

That is more or less the same as drug addiction or cigarette addiction, but replace the drug or cigarette with buddies or friends.

It’s one of those things, you know, you got lost in a completely new environment which you would be stuck in it for quite a long time, surrounded by new people you hadn’t known or even seen before, and you were forced to introduce yourself to them and, well, get along with them. Eventually, you would be stuck with only a few guys in which you got acquainted with, and within a few weeks they became your so-called friends.

Maybe they could be the kind of friends that you’d enjoy to be with. But if you weren’t so lucky, you would be forced by yourself to hang out with them more than you would with everyone else, and you were always together like a group of gay men. When you hung out or had lunch together, you talked shits (sometimes even quite literally) that you realized were stupid and immature, but you laughed. It was fun at the time you talked about them, but then when you go home, you would feel awkward because you would realize how childish the talk was, and your laugh was merely fake.

Sometimes you would feel guilty if you didn’t hang out with them, but that was not because you were afraid to disappoint them, but because you were afraid that they would leave you for… betrayal, so to speak, and then be left with the infamous curse of forever alone; no friends, just alone.

And sometimes you separated yourself from them and thought about the fact that you wanted to get off of them and hang out with other cool guys who have a lot of friends and talk more mature stuff, but you would feel you were not good enough for them and fell that you were, in fact, just the same as your pack of friends. Then the fear of being ignored and be talked behind your back creeped in your mind.

So you went back to your pack of friends.

Well, maybe most parts of the above are too subjective (I admit it, I was talking about no other than myself), but the point is the addiction I mentioned. You are stuck with the “thing” in which you wanted to get off of it, but you can’t because you can’t live without it. In this case, friends.

I know it sounds kind of selfish because it does. And I hate it for that. I often wish for figures of friends (or a girlfriend) like those in the novels or movies, where you could share a lot of things with each other, talk a real talk, laugh a real laugh. Or you could go around the world together and be friends for life. You wish for everyone to act as if their world is for you only.

But I realize that the world doesn’t work that way—you can’t always expect things to work the way you wanted. That sucks, yeah, but what can I do? People have their own lives anyway.

Maybe I shouldn’t complain and instead try to make it fun like sipping freaking heroin and be addicted to it (though I’ve never done that, seriously)? Or in a more positive sense, be grateful for the friends I have and start to enjoy hanging out with them, whoever they are? Yeah, maybe. It’s foolish of me to complain about my friends—while pretending to ignore the fact that I am not better than them.

But then again, it may be one of my bad traits: I can’t seem to accept the world the way it is.

I wonder if other people experience this odd kind of addiction too?


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