My friends are intelligent, gifted, wonderful people that will either take the world by storm, or be the reason our generation storms.
But here… here I feel like everything is horribly temporary. And it seems, trust me I want to be wrong here, that everyone but me is treating it as purely temporary. Gloves on. Don’t handle too carefully, because getting attached will just suck later–above all remember: these people are not your real friends. They’ll be gone in a year. Probably won’t hear from them in months, years, hell, even decades. No sense caring now.
Given the first opportunity to hang out, enjoy our company carefree, without regard or worry toward our ultimate obligation here, and it’s like it’s a race to see who can get the fuck out first.
Basically, this is hard for me to deal with because I feel like these people are all I have. They’re the one’s I’ve genuinely spent the most time trying to establish some kind of bond with. They’re the people I picked over everyone else I’ve met here, and decided that if there was a war they’re definitely on my team. But there’s this constant icy barrier, a distance wedged between everyone, and it disconnects any attempt, even the vaguest, at connection.
And I do it too. I can feel myself growing more and more distant from everyone else. I have less and less to say, and am at times significantly less compelled to even try. I can’t even tell if it’s just a reaction to what I’ve been feeling for so long, or if I’m equally guilty of this distancing and unaware.
I’m trying here, I really am. But it’s a daily thing.