Why you should NEVER leave your friends for a guy

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Why you should never leave your friends

After snot-filled napkins thrown away and dumb statuses on Facebook about loneliness, you finally have a relationship. Good job, girl! You’re someone. Now eeeeeevery single problem of yours was solved. Earth is spinning again, Obama is president again, and you feel like you have a serious reason to live. There’s why you should NEVER leave your friends for a guy!

I hope you won’t slam the phone on the ground after I tell you how dumb you are if you feel more superior, thinking the only goal in this world is to have a boyfriend.

It sounds superficial as hell, just like the questions of our relatives and any curious people: say, girl, you got a boyfriend? Relationship, when? Don’t you wanna be like everyone else?



Calm down, we’re not debating the existential question of to be, or not to be in a relationship. At least not now.

I wanna talk, though, about the girls that meet some Prince Charming, levitate around him and cling onto him like Jack clung onto that plank in Titanic.

Somehow, it’s understandable. When love is blooming and you tremble even on Sundays at family dinners, you’ll see black in front of your eyes until The One gives you some notification.

And how dilated your pupils are, dear lady, when after waiting for a few hours – dreadful hours, your knight in shining armor calls you, the Bad Boy, that Dear Future Husband that you do charms for, in hopes that you will unite your destinies under a sacred oath.

And when he calls you, it’s done! You don’t have any other feelings! Fuck parents, fuck friends, and you go outside your house in the best clothes asking yourself where’s he gonna park his horse.

Oh, and the poetry! Such true love when you get up on that white horse with your knight and you lose yourselves, flying in the wind and dust on the street, under the jealous beliefs of the plebeians who went out to see this happening.

So much pride! So much arrogance! And what a man you got, You arrange him a bit to admire him from his profile and you think to yourself, satisfied, what kind of jealousy your colleagues, neighbors, fellow girls feel.

Love got you so hard, you say “Fuck the phone!”. You turn it off. You put it in your purse, throw it somewhere in the depths of it just so you’re not bothered. God forbid someone bothers you from your neverending dream of love.

And while you hang out with him on rainbows, thinking about keeping your maiden name after the wedding or not, your girlfriends put up missing posters, then think you’re dead, then prepare flower arrangements for your grave.

Then, they realize it was for the best that they got rid of you. You’re very damaging, woman.



You either cry hours on end for some past Brad Pitt, or love takes ahold of you and you forget about anything else.

They got fed up with calling you and you telling them you’re with your sweetie, Day, night, holidays, workdays, you’re still clinging onto him. Worse than leeches.

They’ll point this out sometimes, and you pass them off as crazy. You have a meltdown, saying: whaaat, you don’t understand me, girls! Or you’re just jealous of our love, ripped straight from Hollywood films. This is the moment they roll their eyes and tell you how utterly stupid you are. They tell themselves, it’s not worth it. You’re in love. Or crazy. Who knows.

And while time stopped for you and you rejected your origins for the first Prince Charming that wrote to you with wishes to get hitched on Facebook, the rest of the world goes on with their existence as well as before. Shocking, right?

The girlfriends you dumped, they started studying, doing sport, investing in themselves.

They continued partying and partying with the squad, supporting and uplifting one another, going to concerts, book signings, et cetera. Shortly: they live their life in a much cooler way. And you? You isolated yourself from humanity to fulfill your romantic desires.

Oh, but there’s gonna be a day, Cinderella, when a warm spring wind will flow and you’ll see your little prince showing up at your home with roughness in his voice and ladylike emotions.

Sensible as ever, he puts a hand on his heart and tells you he needs to be honest. It’s his strongest virtue, after all. He tells you with trembling in his voice that this doesn’t work out anymore, that the chain of love broke, that he’s busy. And you know how it is with these busy men in the 21st century that are suuuuuch businessmen and sooooo smart. Money doesn’t make itself and companies don’t own themselves just from little love whispers. He thinks you understand. After all, you’re a smart girl. A mature one.



No, it’s not you, you’re an extraordinary person. It’s him and his exhausting world. Oh, what a change of fate.

But don’t fret, you can count on him continuously. Of course, you can be friends! You just need to flow your napkin in front of the window and he’s going to come to you. He’s a man of his word, no shit.

And while you can’t figure out how to stop crying ‘cause your neighbors hear you, you see him parking his horse in front of the gate next door.

Old sympathies for your little neighbor that he told you not to worry about. Eh, fuck it! There are more men around. They’ll try to shoot their shot at you too. It’s not like relationships are getting old so soon.

But you know what your neighbor has and you don’t, sweetie? PERSONAL LIFE.

While you didn’t know how to throw your phone so you’re not bothered and you fucked your friends over, your dear neighbor did better stuff. Took care of herself. Took walks even without a white horse, started reading so she has what to talk about.

And this is what happens with a woman that starts shining. She attracts the views of men all around.

Because she’s not focused exclusively on them and she has the stuff to do in case her Prince Charming doesn’t call her to meet him halfway.

When you’re a leech and mooch off for the man next to you, believe me, it’s noticeable. Those around you feel it too. Even your man feels it, and he’s gonna leave you, dumbfounded, if you continue to be stupid.

And here’s the kicker! Start calling people to meet up! Fuck all will answer your calls. Your friends got bored of you and finally, they don’t want any stuff to do with you. Figured, princess?



This is what happens when you dump the people that loved you for a man that is the same as all other men.

Of course, people are temporary. Friends can also be shitty and make you feel disgusted by humanity. But usually, they’re there for you when you’re an idiot and don’t know what else you want from life. Or when you don’t take care of yourself and they force you to eat. This is true love, yo.

I’m not saying you don’t have to get into a relationship.

On the contrary, it’s amazing how you can feel anything with another person, but if you rely only on that and finally isolate from the world, dolly, you’re fucked.

You can despair and beat yourself up, you’re not impressive. Once you dumped your friends, they do the same to you.

And you realize you’ve started calling old acquaintances from decades ago, just so you won’t rot in the house: Hey, remember me? Yeah, we were together in kindergarten. Of course, I remember your name (sic)! Hey, tell me, wanna link up? This is the limit to dignity. Shocking. It sucks to be alone, no?

And now, girls, to avoid all the bullshit up there and every possible scenario, God forbid it ever passes through your heads that you should become conjoined with the men you’re with.



Stop staying clung onto every prince that appears in your way or that parks his white horse around the block. Tell them to stay home, ‘cause you have a personal life too.

You have friends to call, coffees to drink, books to read, workouts to do, and the list goes on.

Stop fucking levitating around men because you will get punked very soon when you realize how dumb and lonely you are, and how hard it is for someone to handle you after such moments.

Now, stop crying and stop praying for another one to fall from Heaven and charm you while you fly on rainbows.

Call your friends and stop being leeches!


Author: Andreea Cordos


 

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