Friends(are)hip

Someone once told me that they treat their relationships with others kind of like investments. He said that he puts a lot into other people so that when he needs them, they would put a lot out for him. When he logs onto MSN, he does a check up on a number of people to see how they are, (half-)expecting that they will do the same for him (I find this works easier if you go online with a depressive screen-name). This rubbed me the wrong way at first - I didn't necessarily want to treat my friends like a bank account from which I wanted interest. I wondered if he was right and he told me to try it for myself.

Lately, I suppose I have without even meaning to. Now that I've lost a very big relationship, I do have more efforts and time to spend on nurturing other friendships. But even though I spend lots of time with certain people or talk to them a lot, I've discovered it doesn't necessarily mean that they care about you. The chances say Most Likely, but I'm not so big on taking chances anymore. It turns out that real friends will give you all their efforts no matter what. Sure, a little maintenance is good every now and then, but even if you don't talk for a year, a good friend will be there anyway. Friends are there when you need them, and most importantly, when you don't.

Maintenance is a funny thing - a lot of people do the upkeep because they feel they should - real friends have a desire that transcends the 'should'. They want to call you and talk to you and see how you are - just because. They want to spend time with you, even if you're both just sitting in a room doing your own thing. They are the ones who like you as much as you like them, who appreciate all the quirky weird things that you do, who will listen even though they've read it all on your blog the day before. They drive you around town because you don't have your license. You can call them at three or five in the morning. They will give you a pair of clean, dry underwear if you get pushed in the pool and your clothes are in their dryer. They hug you really tight. Your heart smiles when you think about them.

My friend N from high school said a few days ago that she feels a bit guilty about still being so attached to us ('us' being the little group of geeky kids who hung around together a lot) after all these years ('all' being two). Others have moved on and made their new group of university friends as most people do. But I think the fact that we're still fairly attached to each other says something wonderful, that our bonds are strong enough to withstand distance and time. I don't think that she needs to feel guilty at all. I sure don't.

*I started writing this post on April 21 at 9:33pm, but it was unfinished and saved as a draft until tonight. For some reason, I think that there is some significance as to why I started writing this on that day, so I'm making a historical note of it right here. Thanks for putting up with my neuroticness.
10:33 pm