When you are a kid making friends is as easy as 1,2,3 (Whatever the hell that means, baby Michael Jackson and the other four); however, the older you get, the increasingly more difficult making friends becomes.
In school you can make friends easily because all these other kids are jailed in the same cell as you for 7 hours a day/ 5 days a week. When you get to college you can certainly make a lot of friends-- not as easily, but easily enough nonetheless. But once you graduate and are released into what some people call "the real world" though I believe it's scientific term is "HELL," you begin to realize that making friends is no longer an easy task.
Once you are released into hell, you soon discover that you will never again be surrounded by so many people that are your age and also have such similar life ideals and goals and dreams-- instead you are surrounded by all of these people who are as ancient as your parents. They all have families at home with little kids and fridges stocked with things other than leftover pizza and a shelf full of beer.
It's odd. It's strange. It's torturous to say the least. It is absolutely the opposite of what God intended life to be-- life filled with vegetables and falling asleep at 9 PM-- but I digress.
In this "real world" making friends is not an easy task. You are forced to work these things called "jobs" where "the man" yells at you for 8 hours a day/ 5 days a week, and after it is over all you want to do is go home and cry-- and often that is exactly what you end up doing. So, after working your 40 hours and crying your 80, there are only so many hours remaining in the week-- and with those dying hours you are supposed to go out into the world, aka hell, and try to capture some friends. (Yes it is sort of like Pokemon, in the sense that you are trying to "catch them all," except that I have a better chance at catching a real life Pokemon than I do catching a real life friend.)
When you do meet somebody you would like to form a friendship with, the next steps are very odd. Much like dating, you are nervous and your mind races about how you will ask them to hang out again. "How should I ask for their number?" "Should I just add them on Facebook and casually message them?" "Maybe he'll ask me to hangout first... yeah, I should wait for him to ask.. Right?"
Anxiety cripples your veins and restrains your arms behind your back and makes it difficult to act. Your words come out all stutter-y, "We sh-should... hang out a- again... If- If you would wan- want to...?"
The question lingers in the air. You see behind their eyes that their mind is working the question over. "Do I really want to hang out with this person again?" Their lips don't say a thing, but you know their tongue is formulating its response. It feels like days, weeks, months fly by as you wait. You walked out onto the ledge, put your toes over the edge, and gave this person-- that you only just met-- permission to either pull you back onto the boat with a "yes" or to shove you overboard with a harsh "no."
Your feet tap in anticipation. "Say yes!" your mind screams and you hope your eyes haven't hinted at your nervousness. Then, after multiple changes in the leaves, you see his lips begin to form into an answer. You take one last deep breath, knowing that soon you could be struggling for air as the waves crash upon you and attempt to bring you down into the ocean's deepest pits.
And then, all of a sudden. a sense of hope comes upon you. "We have had such a wonderful time together, there is no way this fellow human being will not want to be my friend." You begin to smile as his words reach the tip of his tongue and prepare to see the world for the first time. You prepare your body for a yes... But then-