Comments on: What Makes A True Friend

By: Lucas

Lucas — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 03:55:50 +0000

I consider myself to be very lucky to have the friends that I have. When I was younger (before and during high school) I didn’t have any friends. It wasn’t until later in high school that I started to make friends. The friends I made then were the first real friends I’d ever had and I was so happy. I actually wanted to go to school and not fake being sick so I didn’t have to go. (I used to get picked on a lot in school, so I’d fake being sick so I didn’t have to go.) I had one friend in particular that I considered to be my best and closest friend. He really showed me how to open up, be myself and be confident in what I do. Without him I don’t think I’d have the friends that I have today. After high school, I stopped talking to most of my friends except for him.

Once I was done school I got a job and made some pretty good friends there, more then I could have imagined. There is one who stands out from the rest though. He’s without a doubt, the closest friend I’ve ever had in my life. I feel that fate brought us together. We went to the same high school and knew of each other, but we were never friends. I even found out that we sat beside each other in one of my classes. A year after we graduated he got a job at the same place that I’d been working, and just like that we were friends. And after 6 months I knew he was my best friend. It’s just like we clicked; suddenly we were hanging out more and I knew I could trust him with anything. He’s like my big brother and I look up to him, and he loves me like his little bro.

He recently moved pretty far away though. But despite the distance, I know we’ll stay friends for a long time. I hope for the rest of our lives. There’s no one in my life that I love more then my best friend, and I know that even if we aren’t close forever, he’ll always have a place in my heart. He’s a kenzoku. I can proudly say that my kenzoku count is 3 (including him). I love my friends!

Lucas: Three is a pretty lucky number.

Alex

By: Andrea

Andrea — Sun, 29 Nov 2009 01:32:09 +0000

Mary, I’ve let this one go; this friend and I have had no harsh words, etc. My concern for her is that her life is at a brutal place but it’s clear she doesn’t want me in it now. I’m sixty-five and a few people I’ve had long, close friendships with have drifted away. I’ve been able to handle the loss of those friendships much easier; they did not cause me this kind of pain. And with one lost friendship, I always say to myself that she did so much for me at the worst point in my life, it would always be enough. But feeling no loss (and I dearly miss her late husband) after twenty-four years of what I thought was a mutually giving friendship is not easy. Also, if people are kind to me and loving, I might be aware of their shortcomings, but it’s easy for me to look the other way. I’d rather be happy than right.

By: Mary Carlisle

Mary Carlisle — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 05:59:30 +0000

It took me a while to respond to this post and hopefully I can answer a bit of Andrea’s question. One of my favorite poems is “A reason, a season, and a lifetime.” If you google it, it will come up; as a matter of fact it was on my refrigerator for a long time. It gives insight as to why people come in and out of our lives so fast and why some people remain with us for our entire journey.

Friendship can be rich and wonderful but also just as painful as a romantic relationship when they end; over the years I’ve learned to become a much better friend. I cringe at the thought of ending friendships so coldly because I didn’t like a character flaw or having tons of expectations for people that I was disappointed with if they didn’t live up to.

I think all the factors of history and common interests are what brings us together but it’s acceptance of who they are with all their faults and a genuine caring for their best interest, goals and aspirations to come true that strengthens them.

I had an awakening when Rhea (Alex’s wife and good friend) hadn’t returned my calls as quickly as I liked (LOL, I know). I left a message on her machine that I didn’t appreciate this and she replied with a very loving, honest but firm response as to why she can’t and doesn’t get back to people for a while (when it’s not urgent). She also very kindly told me she understood if this didn’t work for me. I adored Rhea and couldn’t imagine such an amazing friend gone from my life. This really got me thinking, as to what kind of friend I was myself and why I had all these demands and expectations of people.

It then made me look at my life many years down the line and how I could be old, bitter, friendless and lonely with no loving solid life-long rich friendships that developed because I had no tolerance for people’s shortcomings, and God forbid I was perfect. LOL. I realized I would never want a friend like myself. This was a painful realization, but transforming.

It took chanting to realize all I needed to do to have good, sincere, loving and rich friends in my life was to be exactly that kind of friend FIRST; no worries about anyone else; just be the kind of friend I would dream of; years later I have some of the most amazing, rich, deep friendships that have changed my life and inspired me to be the best I can be for humanity.

To Andrea’s question as to when to know when they’re ending: I think some people are in our lives for short periods, some longer and some a lifetime. If you really ponder it you will know which one, what they’ve taught you, and you’ll be able to move on faster. I always think friends are like hand prints on your soul; they may not be in your life as much anymore but they will never be forgotten.

Mary: Very wise words. Thank you for sharing them.

Alex

By: Andrea

Andrea — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 04:00:31 +0000

I wanted to comment on the attraction factor and the “family” factor. I have a situation where I have truly been blessed. My brother, who was eight years older than me, died at thirty. We were unusually close. He had a year-old daughter. His wife remarried a British man, moved to London and I saw my niece about once a year. When she was twenty-eight she moved to Manhattan. I had no idea what our relationship would be like; I had no other nieces or nephews. But it is a gem, a diamond really. She is my niece, but she is also my dear friend. We have the same wild sense of humor; call each other with reminders of our favorite TV shows, then discuss them. Of course, I am still the aunt, and on occasion when we argue, I do have to remember who’s the grownup. I’ve been blessed with much kenzoku within my family. All family is not kenzoku!

By: Andrea

Andrea — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 03:32:50 +0000

Two years ago the husband of a couple I’d been close to for twenty years died suddenly. I made it clear to the wife I’d be available to her and told her she could call me at any time because I’m a nightowl and don’t turn my phone off until midnight. I spoke to her briefly after the funeral and told her I had shingles. I left multiple messages on her answering machine asking her how she was doing, etc. About six weeks later she called me and said she got my messages but at this time on the advice of her counselor she didn’t think I had a place in her life. Actually, I’m not totally sure of her words; it sounded like a rehearsed set piece. Also I was on six percocet a day and was pretty brain dead. I didn’t need anything from her and never asked. She was my third close friend who’d lost a husband but the first to respond this way. I have three chronic illnesses but I’d always thought the friendship had been more than equal. I’d been there when they both had gone through hell when their son went to Iraq. I showed up; I listened. But now I felt like all my efforts were overshadowed by perceived needs. We spoke about six months later and the flow was still there. We’d spent our birthdays together every May (they’re a day apart) and I sent her an email last May telling her I still held a gift certificate from a previous year and would she like to use it with me. She did and I learned things had not been going well for her: she lost her job and her son had come back from Iraq with PTSD. Lunch was fun, not awkward. She talked a lot about her son, who I’d had a relationship with. But it didn’t bring her back into my life; she’s stayed away. I think of her and her son a lot (I was at his Christening) and worry about both of them. She does have family and a couple who seem to be “taking care of her.” It’s not just the pain of missing her (and her husband) but I wonder if I had misperceptions of a long friendship. Was I always seen as the needy one? Illness is isolating and I’ve tried hard to maintain relationships. I also realize that friendships end for many reasons. But this one is tough. My question: When does one give up on a friendship and accept it’s over?

Andrea: I have no good answer to your last question. If you love this friend (and it sure seems like you do) I’d say always remain open in your heart to whatever friendship she feels she can give you. As you say, friendships end for many reasons—as many, I would think, as they evolve. You might ask her about the advice her counselor gave her, why he gave it, why she feels you don’t have a place in your life. People feel what they feel and we can’t argue them out of it, but perhaps if you understood the reason you might gain better clarity about how you want to proceed (or not). Tough situation.

Alex