For people like me, making friends is a difficult task to do. More so, keeping friends is something close to impossible. It’s either I stop feeling welcomed in the group, or I grow tired of their sentiments.
Trust is something I do not give openly. My insecurities take over, and I have a constant feeling of being back-stabbed. Though I openly accept this as a social convention, I feel uncomfortable with it.
When we were younger, making friends was as easy as having that seatmate in class. You sit with that kid for seven hours straight, and you actually think you’ll be friends forever. Although keeping that friendship intact means it’ll last as long as your day lasts, or as long as you move to the next grade level.
For me, every friendship ends when we leave our seats.
As I grow older, I realize that I don’t have that special childhood friend. I feel lonely now that I think about not having friends to accept me. That’s why I rely heavily on Dio’s existence.
Whenever I watch TV shows such as The Big Bang Theory, I get reminded that I don’t belong to a certain group. Even someone like Sheldon has a group of friends who care for him despite him being obnoxious and intolerable.
And when pointed out, I realize that this is how my family rolls. From my parents to my siblings, we gain friends momentarily unlike being able to establish a concrete relationship.
So I ask myself, what really are friends for?