When a friend isn’t a friend mostly because they were never a friend to begin with

I need to get something off my chest.

I’m an introverted guy with a somewhat anti-social personality, brought on I think by the fact that I don’t like people. It’s not that I generally have anything against them, it’s just that I hate them and hope they all die from the plague.

Naturally this attitude makes it hard for me to gain friends.

Actually that’s not true, what’s hard is people being able to find a way into my inner exclusive circle, a circle consisting of those I can remotely stand for more than five minutes. It’s a privileged club, yo, and I don’t let just anybody in.

But that’s the thing: when I let people get inside, it’s because I feel I’ve connected with them, believing we have a common bond that can form the genesis for a great and lasting friendship. Usually I keep people at arm’s length, so it’s rare when something like this happens.

But not too long ago, it did happen. She got on the inside, and for a time it was great. Our friendship was growing, we chatted on a regular basis, met a few times in real life, and things were fine. I had someone to talk to, and for me, that was more than enough.

And then she just… stopped. Weeks would go by without a word. She’s just been busy. Ok. I accepted that as a legitimate excuse. I’d still hear from her, just not as often. Just too you know, busy busy busy. Eventually things would settle down and get back to normal, sooner or later. Right?

Only they never did. I knew it was the end when Christmas and New Year’s went by without a word from her, despite her Facebook wall still being active. Too busy to text me a Merry Christmas, huh? Busy, busy, busy…

That’s when I took a step back and took a long hard look at this “friendship.” I’ve done a lot of things for her, but I couldn’t think of one thing she’s ever done for me. Nothing beyond a few texts and tweets. At least nothing of any real substance. And I would have been fine with that, because all I ever really wanted was her friendship, which I assume should obviously mean setting time aside to talk every now and then. And by every now and then, I don’t mean once in six months either.

I’m inclined to think that if you genuinely like someone and value their presence in your life, you WANT to talk to them, hang out with them, do things for them. So it was a hard thing for me to accept that this person really did NOT want to be my friend. I had called it wrong. I had let the wrong person inside, and I got burned for it.

Some people, namely the extroverted types, will tell me to get over it, that I’m making too much out of nothing, or how dare I, seriously, DARE I expect someone, a woman especially, to sacrifice 5 minutes of her time for me. OUTRAGEOUS.

The same people though (and this is pretty much why I hate humanity) don’t really place much value in friendships. Like their Facebook list, they keep a tally of hundreds, if not thousands of names in their “black books” that they would claim to be friends with, yet it’s all a mile long and an inch deep. So when someone drops out of contact inexplicably, it doesn’t mean anything to them, because the friendship itself never meant anything to them. So when somebody like me whines about this crap, they just can’t see what the big deal is.

This thing where people just kinda breeze in and out of each other’s lives effortlessly and without any form of emotional attachment has never been something I could understand though, and it’s sort of hardened me from wanting to befriend anyone again. I have one good friend now who’s proven himself, the rest of humanity I could do without.

So now I fortify my wall even more, careful never to let anyone else inside again.

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