I just wonder about friendship—how it could mean to us at this age.
It seems like some are fond of putting hierarchical titles to their relationship and not really meaning it. It’s nice calling someone a friend you know, but this title has become like a commodity that can be bought anywhere, through texting, partying, bar-hopping, chatting, e-mailing, and what have you. The value of the commodity would depend upon the person’s status, money, beauty, influence, and intelligence. The higher the value, the greater the possession one has, and the more influential he/she becomes in acquiring more of the commodity (whether opportunistic as he is or unsuspecting as the others). He then feels a surge of power coming in as he connects to more networks of friendship. He feels he belongs and that he is a part of the workings of a whole. He feels special, wanted, and then he feels happy.
Why do so many fight for the title of a “friend”? What’s the difference between calling someone a “friend” and an “acquaintance”? Some might be feeling empty within them and are just trying to fill the void or insecurity they feel with the camaraderie, loyalty, and pride that most friendships promise to offer. But listen to some of their exchanges, as to how they would laugh about nothing and argue about anything that has most oftentimes been talked about, as they share their views about the most recent trends, which are not that important in terms of feeding our hearts with good things.
That’s why I don’t easily find a friend. They just suddenly enter my life sometimes, and before realizing it, they have become a friend to me. I believe them to be heaven’s sent, they belong to me when they’ve already become part of my life. If they are not for me, I have discovered that they, themselves, can leave so easily as they came.
I can count my friends with my fingers, and that’s not bad at all, for I am proud of them.
--for I seldom find people who can really listen even when I can’t find enough words to speak my mind. I seldom find people who can really talk about their heart’s content, who will laugh at my unprepared jokes, and make me laugh too. I know that I will not always find people who will offer their help even when I don’t ask for them, who can empathize with my tears, and cry for my mistakes. I also know that not everyone will stay to protect me from harm, and to defend me against insult when I am not there.
We are fed by the people we surround our lives with. I hope our problems are not caused by starvation for the real thing.
