On friendship

Friends. What a powerful word, what a strange word sometimes. Who is your friend and who isn’t? Who claims to be your friend but isn’t? Who pretends to be your friend just to get something from you but couldn’t really give a damn about you? What is a real friend and how do you know who your real friends are? Too many questions.

The word friend is sometimes even used as having a sort of lesser value. Your ex partners, lovers, flings… It’s not you, it’s me… let’s just be friends… JUST… as if being friends is not good enough. You’re demoted to the category of “just friends” because your partner, lover or fling doesn’t find you sexually attractive anymore, the chemistry is gone, the flame is gone… and now… “just” friends.

But is being friends such a bad thing? I mean, why the word JUST? Of course it’s not. In my life I’ve come to realize that actually a good friend is a very good treasure to have. Friends don’t come by easily. Whereas for some people making friends is like breathing, for some other people it is a very difficult task. How many times some random strangers have told me all about their lives while waiting for my bus in a bus shelter. Why do they do that? They just need someone to talk to, someone who listens to them. We all need that.

I once wrote a project about homeless people and most of my interviewees coincided in that one of the most difficult things for them was to actually make friends, and even some of them didn’t welcome the prospect of integrating into society for fear of loosing the friends they had made while being homeless.

So, why are friends so important? Because friends make us feel like we do exist, that we’re not invisible. Somebody out there actually cares about your general wellbeing and about your mere existence. They miss you when you’re not there, and they look forward to see you; and when you’re in trouble they want to help you, because they want you to be happy. And that’s a really good thing, isn't it?