I have been hit with the “Who are my real friends?” syndrome. It has come and gone over the years, and it’s back again to do a sweeping of my brain. Being twenty-three, I find it still appropriate to have this issue (though any age is acceptable). Despite the fact that I feel mature for my age and “wise beyond my years,” I am well aware that I am still changing – and so it goes with those around me.
Have you ever reached a point in a friendship where you’re the only person making any effort to keep the friendship going? That’s the issue I am faced with at present. While this isn’t a best friend issue (because Brian & Dana are everlasting), I am having an “effort debate” with a couple of my present friendships. And to be honest, I really don’t know what to do about it.
I want to be the person who just keeps on trucking, making little efforts here and there to keep the friendship going for the sake of knowing I’m doing my part. But the other part of me – perhaps the saner part – wants to wash my hands of the negative relationships and move on.
I am at a very good place in my life, and I can only hope that it gets better from here. I am happier than I have ever been, but I still have these friendships that make me question the world I live in. I ask myself if the friendships remain merely because they have been there for too long to ignore, or perhaps I keep the people around in case they get back to who they were and things return to a previous state. I don’t think the later will ever become reality. People change too much in time to ever go back. I wouldn’t want to go back to the person I was when I met some of these friends. This isn’t to say they are bad people, but I myself have experienced enough change in my life to know what kinds of people are the people I relate to and the people I simply will never understand.
I never grew up understanding the way people my age acted to begin with. I never partied. To this day I haven’t been drunk. I’ve never been in a relationship. I don’t obsess over something because everyone else is doing it. I didn’t ink or hole up my body because I can. Again, this isn’t to say that people who are like this are bad people. People are different, and I respect that. But I am not that person, and I think some of the friends I’ve had over the years never understood that.
It was weird to many people that I’d rather sit home on a Friday night and read or write than go party. People didn’t understand why I preferred Barnes & Noble to the mall. I was insane for not enjoying shopping. I was a freak for not wanting to get high. I’ve always been okay with this stuff. I accepted that I was different. Hell, I loved that I was different, and I still love it. Knowing that I can have fun without drinking, causing the next big drama, or feeling bad about how I look because I had that extra chip is something that I am very much okay with.
I am now at the point where I no longer remember what I wrote or where I was ultimately going with this post, so I think it’s time to stop. I have some Dickens to read for class tomorrow, followed be a wink of sleep.
When a friendship goes sour, do you tell the person you’re done, or do you let time pull you apart?
What are you doing this week/end?