“What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies.”
— Aristotle
I feel like I've always been a rather odd individual—even as a child.
Although, when I was younger — I at least had people I considered (friends) that I would play with. You know the ones you would pick berries with and gossip about how the boy down the street was cute. We would get into arguments and disagree on who danced better and which one of us could be first for everything. After that we wouldn’t talk for a couple of hours and then see each other and say we’re sorry — like nothing ever happened. Being and having friends was so effortless when I was younger…so what happened?
As I got older things seemed to change. It’s as if everyone started competing with each other (in a way I really wanted no part of) as if I needed to prove myself to individuals so they could justify befriending me. You know how in school you had different types of groups that you somehow fit or fell into? Well I somehow repelled finding my place in any one of these distinguished aggregations I so desperately wanted to fit into. As I got older it just seemed to get worse; finding anything in common with anyone just seemed like a losing battle. Before I knew it I had no friends, no one to relate to, to argue with about trivial things. Comfortable with the idea that being alone was more profound than being in the company of people I have no connection with.
How did it become like this? From time to time, I wonder where I went wrong. I envy those who still have friends that they have had since first grade (which they do everything with still.) I remember reading a question somewhere that really resonated with me and I tend to ask people from time to time — just to see what they would say. “If you were not you but knew all the aspects of yourself and how you are, would you be your friend?” I remember sitting there questioning myself — as if this should be an easy question to answer. When I have asked others the same question they almost always (without thinking) respond “yes.” Because replying no would be you admitting to someone how shitty of a person you think you are and no one wants to do that. I have had only one person reply no before and I honestly respect him for doing so. (because saying yes is easy) Don’t get me wrong — I’m sure most of them honestly thought they were a good person and that they would be a great friend. Even though… I feel a few only rebutted yes — despite how they actually felt on the inside.
When people tend to ask me if I have friends I usually dread answering the question. I usually contemplate in my head on whether I should lie and say I do or tell them the truth. I feel like every time I tell someone I don’t — they automatically think something is wrong with me. Or immediately ask me “why not” and then I tend to just blame it on work or just not having enough time. (Which is always complete bullshit; because if you really care about something you’ll always make time for it.)
In the end—my answer was “no.”
No, I would not be my friend and here is why.
Honesty is hard to come by now but I think if you can’t be honest with anyone else; at least be honest with yourself. No, I don’t hate myself and no I don’t think I’m a completely dreadful human being. I have just become so associated and so well formed to being alone — that I know nothing else. I can be selfish in my ways and very particular on how I like and do things. I have no desire to entertain someone with needless things that I could care less about. Change, everything and I mean everything changes. I have become content with every aspect of the word and the meaning —I think it’s something everyone should become very familiar with and just except. People change on a daily basis; whether you realize it or not. To think otherwise is just foolish and they may change into someone you no longer relate to. I would rather be brutally honest than to give you false expectations and let you down.
Although I have no friends — the thought no longer bothers me. Maybe I’ll find one person who I can call a true friend one day. If not, I see no point in wallowing in self-doubt — when the only person who truly matters is you.
