On Friends


(Originally written on October 10, 2016)

What is the point of interacting with people I only see in the classroom? The people I could call “friends” but are only 5-day friends because I see them five times a week in school. I’ve become distant to my classmates, the coursemates, because it dawned on me that I will never talk to them ever again after we all leave the university. It brings me great sadness as I remember people who I got to be close with in high school, but never speaking to them again. I thought these were the people I’d be friends with for the rest of my life. But not a single hint of acknowledgement of each other, not even on social media which is the only medium I can communicate with them. Perhaps, I thought they were my friends for life because I saw them in school regularly and our class had less than 90 people. I have taken note of this illusion. They are not my friends. If they were, we’d talk, check-up on each other sincerely, and we won’t be awkward. Sometimes, I think I really don’t have friends. If I do, I could count them with one hand. These are the people who check on how I’m doing, the people I confide in this messy shithole I’m in, the people I sincerely care about. A question, still do I actually care about them? For a moment, I’m not sure who I really care about. I don’t even care for myself. How would I care for others? Scratch that. I think there are people who I really care about.

I don’t want to be awake at night thinking about the estranged friendships I had. I don’t want to feel those were wasted times and wasted moments. I don’t want to form senseless and meaningless bonds or relationships with people I wouldn’t see in 10 years (if I survive that long).

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