Friends take a lot of effort.
In primary school we struggle to make them, what with such little knowledge of how to establish a connection with strangers, and to find topics to talk about so you keep their interest. At age six, what have we to talk about? The majority of us have had little life experience by this age; no gossip to indulge in (since our parents told us to play in our rooms when they had other grown-ups around the house), no crushes or heartbreak to cry about (do we even know what having a crush feels like? How are we meant to know if we like that person of the opposite sex that society has taught us we should have feelings for?) and no crazy nights out to reminisce on in the playground (the craziest we've every gotten is when we had too much fizzy pop when we were bowling with our parents and almost threw up over the already-slippery floors before our mum rushed us over to the loos).
In secondary school, throughout the ages of eleven to sixteen, we struggle to keep them. Watching too many tween television shows that involve stringing random sentences together to make them look 'random' and a lot of screaming and heightened drama in general has a strong effect on us, even though we would never admit it, and together with hormones create enough petty arguments and general bitchiness to last us a lifetime. We can't go one day without talking about each other behind our backs and we know one of our friends has a grudge against us but we can't figure out why.
But still, we carry on and act as though everything is fine and try to make life as comfortable for each other as we possibly can.
At the end of our high school lives, when we are about eighteen, we suddenly realise that we haven't had an argument in our Facebook group chat for an entire year and we are no longer afraid that our friends are talking about us behind our backs, because we haven't heard a piece of second-hand information from them about anyone in our group for so long that we feel like our friendship has regenerated from the Ninth Doctor to David Tennant's Tenth Doctor Who extravaganza. We have finally grown up and it feels great, and our friendships have solidified... kind of like when you put a bottle of water in the freezer and a day later the whole thing is a block of ice.
We bother with our friends for so long because we know the final outcome is going to be brilliant. We put up with the awkward stages of meeting them and then coping with them for countless years, just so we can have perfect moments later on.
We put up with each other whilst we are growing up so that when we are grown up we can have the funniest parties, the best late night walks, the most beautiful Bonfire Night, the deepest conversations, and the cosiest nights in baking and watching anime films.
Sure, there is still a lot to do even when we are at that most perfect stage of friendship. We have to clean the whole house from top to bottom even though our friends don't care how messy we are, we have to buy the Coca Cola and meat feast pizzas even though fizzy drinks make you sick and you're a vegetarian just so our friends feel comfortable, and we have to take time out of our day to speak to them when they're upset even when we've got that really important assignment due in the morning.
We bother so much with our friends because it has taken us that long to form a sold and long-lasting, meaningful relationship, that there is no choice but to keep going and see what more there is to friendship.
We bother so much with our friends because, if we have good ones, they are worth every second of our time and every ounce of our love. And they earned that time and love because they bothered so much with us too.