To grow old is to grow apart and apart we have. At what point did my friend’s interests and mines diverge? Mayra puts it best, “You’re not like them. Why is that?”
We were at one point.
Shitty B-rated movies, bad comedies, video games, paint balling, guns, and a desire to fuck around everyday without a care. That was yesterday. Perhaps Julian, Anthony, and Garza still do enjoy those interests, but I don’t and far from it. In fact, most of what they talk about in our group chat spanning several years, I have not the slightest bit interest in and that’s unfortunate.
That’s not to say I don’t respect them and their hobbies. They are as they always are — my best friends and brothers. Would I want them to respect my interest in bitcoin and cryptocurrency before saying how big of scam it is or how it’s going to come crashing down on me? Of course because it’s fucking rude. I don’t expect them to understand.
- “Who do you think you are?”
- “You’re obviously into status.”
- “This isn’t the real you.”
- “You’re overthinking it.”
I frequently hear those comments thrown my way. In their eyes, perhaps my desire and drive to have better life rubs them the wrong way. Maybe my goals don’t sit well with them. Perhaps my planning abilities make them insecure. Hell, I know they are that — insecure. Am I going to call them out on it? No.
To grow old is to grow apart. We’ve gone this far. Why stop now?