I don’t have many friends.
Or, at least, that’s how it feels. I know a lot of people, I talk to a lot of people, I’m in a friendly relationship with a lot of people. But friends? Not many.
I am sure several of you share the same feeling: past 30s, something happens to friendships. Some fade away, like memories of an enjoyable holiday in a place where you don’t feel like going back anytime soon. Others first show cracks, then either heal or break — the people you could meet if you wanted, but can’t get yourself to, until you eventually either reconnect or let go. Other relationships just disappear, forgotten, lost in the mist like distant dreams, recalled only when a familiar name gets mentioned.
Oh yeah, we used to be friends, I wonder why. I wonder what happened to them. I wonder if they also wonder about this like I do.
Sometimes to remember the surname of an old girlfriend I need to focus (their names I still remember, with a bit of effort). I always found fascinating how time swallows the people you cared most about at some point in your life and leaves…
