To L.
What are friends?
My cousin asked me that question a few days ago, and I’ve yet to answer that. See, it’s a pretty hard thing to answer, and even more so if the one who’s asking the question happens to be trashed around by the people he considered "friends".
To make things easier for me to answer (since I care enough), I asked some people–whose heads I’m sure are filled with substantial meat–what the word ‘friend’ means to them. Here are their answers:
- Anne: friend - a person whom you consider knows you enough, and accepts you regardless of your shortcomings and imperfection
- Carlo: A friend is somebody you can give your knife and can expect that he’ll kill your enemies and you can trust him not to use the knife on your throat.
- redkinoko: a friend is a sibling who just happened to have little or no genetic similarity to you.
- DT: I got these from somewhere (Francis Kong? Dr. Harold Sala? I don’t remember): A friend is someone who knows who you are and like you, anyway. A true friend speaks well of you behind your back and stabs you in the front.
- renzeiken: when you think you know the person well enough to trust him/her with your wallet.
- Chase: friend - people I can connect and relate to.
Noticeably enough, the one of the common denominator for all answers is trust. Of course, who would befriend a dude who’ll take off and run as soon as you loan him money? Who would befriend people who’d do a Judas on you (sorry, I’m not taking into account the Gospel of Judas in this post, please save the flames for later) as soon as you take him into your life?
Who would befriend people who’d believe ill of someone, when they don’t even know him beyond skin deep, and instantly believe what they hear from others before even knowing that person?
And I’m sure anyone who is reading this post is wondering, what’s the point? Yeah, we all know these shite. I’m just stating the universally obvious because my cousin here is so enraged, so bitter, so blinded by disappointment.
Don’t give up on the world, L. Drop the junk, and move on. You’ve got about approximately 70 years of life left (assuming you don’t start smoking) to enjoy life and move on. Friends will not wish ill upon you. Friends will not break your trust and betray you. Most importantly, friends will not encourage your girlfriend to sleep with one of them just because of a stupid bet. They obviously don’t care about you. If you take a look at the list above again, you’ll see that ‘betrayal’ is not included in any of the definitions.
Come on, L. They’re not worth losing your sanity or ideals. I know you love her, she may have love/d you, but not enough. You go and off yourself, nothing will ever change. Your girlfriend will still be that stupid girl who threw away something so important because of one stupid reason, your so-called friends will remain as trash, the world turns, and will not cry for you. But you will lose. I know. I’ve been there, as do many other people.
The next time you fall in love, make sure that you save some of yourself for yourself. My best friend told me that. Save some dignity. Act like the 30-year-old yuppie that you are, despite the fact that I hate the image of stereotypical yuppies. *KICK*
Take my goddamn Hello Kitty hanky and blow, dammit.
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Carlo told me that my fic blogs Broken Hearts Guild and Soul Breaker do not let people without tabulas accounts put in comments. >.> I’ve neglected to notice that, I’m sorry. I know that I haven’t updated again lately, but if there is some glaring error that you want to point out, or maybe you just want to comment, please do so. My blogs now allow anonymous comments.
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This is an idyllic scene: My cousin devouring my Haruki Murakami books, with The Smiths playing in the background. For some weird reason this brings me back to last Christmas season, when Richard gave me my first The Smiths mp3s and I bought Haruki Murakami books with my Christmas savings. I always read the books under the candy-pink light of my lampshade, and they always gave me weird dreams.
Now, my cousin is doing the same thing right now, and I hope I’m passing on that legacy, of sorts. We were in the same situation when we read Murakamis along with listening to The Smiths…and it just feels right.
