Friendships sail

I enjoy drama. I thrive off of it. It makes life interesting.
...When it's on TV. In real life, however, it's like my body can't handle the stress and feels like it's hungover. Except, seeing that I've never been hungover before, I'll relate it to having one too many cups of coffee. Long story short, I get a massive headache when cat fights aren't interrupted by commercial breaks from Australian geckos. It's sadder when said fights are about a boy. A boy! My current tensions with my friends are so cliche, we might as well have our own special on Jersey Shore. Except with less fake tanner. It's the classic story of girl meets boy, girl dates boy, other girl thinks boy is giant douchebag, girl says she's facebook engaged to boy in order to prove her point. You know, every '90's kid's dilemma. Thank you, Mark Zuckerburg--you've added two more dimensions to revenge. Well done.
When there's conflict amongst friends, my brain goes into a tornado of wondering what went wrong, what I said, and how I could say it differently. Ah, the joys of being an opinionated person who doesn't want to be blamed, or start a fight. It makes me look like a little something like this: 

Imagine wearing this expression in the middle of Starbucks while your friends argue about settling; while they debate weather an eighteen year old should settle for a guy, I'm wondering if I can possibly settle into my feet. It's either the venti iced coffee that I send into my bloodstream every four hours, or the nerves from the argument that make my legs feel like they're trying to turn me into a runner. Hah! That's a concept legs, that my brain will never agree with.
Having extra large helpings of tension seems like a sad way to end things before heading off to college. Maybe we need super sized fights in order to replace those super sized Rita's outings that makes our wallets very skinny but our hips not so much. I pictured every second as teary-eyed confessions of how much we love each other and will miss each other. Then I remembered that I should stop watching so many goshdarn soap operas because my life does not get interrupted by Tide commercials. This may be the closest the three of us get, but just because we're distancing ourselves geographically doesn't mean this is the end. I can't imagine just letting connections die with the people who are so fabulous, random, and will do crazy things with me without giving me the stink eye. Arguments are bound to happen with people who spend so much time together, but this isn't the last thing I'm going to remember about my friends. We will still have plenty of time to run around downtown singing, "go insane, go insane, throw some glitter, make it rain!" Because I plan on going insane and throwing some glitter with these girls until the day I die.

Namaste.