it’s times like these i wonder about friends. every year i go through this phase where i question the people around me. is it sad that i haven’t had a close, close friend with whom i could share everything in years? is it sad that i bottle these fears and aspirations in my head because i’m not comfortable enough to let anyone around me know them? i talk to my friends — yes, i do. i laugh with them, i make merry with them. but i do not share my soul with them. it’s a fear i cannot quite put my finger on with a peculiar label, nor can i toss it aside for another day of worry. it lingers.

it lingers still.

i find it depressing to have made and lost so many peers over the years and to have retained such a pitiful amount. i find it sadder still that i can hardly relate to these people. granted, everyone has their share of problems. but sometimes when i hear about their pet peeves of the day and their tiffs with their siblings i cannot help but see the trivialities of their whining. there are things going on in my own home that i dare not speak of. and sometimes it’s the things which we do not wish to tell our friends that pull us farther and farther away from them, because we feel they won’t understand or they will compare or they will once again trivialize.

it’s a strange feeling not being able to fully trust anyone. trading secrets during a midnight slumber party does not equal complete and mutual trust; that’s pubescent giddiness. trust is something a bit more abstract. it aches when you don’t have it and it makes you wish you did possess it in all its splendour.

friends are a funny thing. they make you sad and they make you smile. and sometimes they make you alter your whole perception on life with just a simple phone call.