Why Are We Friends

Sometimes I wonder about some people and ask why they are my friend. Friendship reminds me a bit of concentric circles in that there are those who form you the inner and those that form the outer circles.

The composition of these circles can change over time with people moving back and forth between them.

I have been both cautious and careful in whom I choose to be my friend so this doesn’t happen often. Most of the time people stay where they are at and that is ok with me. I am not really looking for much in the way of movement. If it happens, so be it.

But every now and then you encounter a situation in which  you look at the behavior of someone called ‘friend’ and ask why they did or did not do something. The classic examples are always related to relationships. Sometimes your friend dates/sleeps with your ex and you wonder why they didn’t go find someone else.

It hasn’t happened often to me, but when it did I went elsewhere. I didn’t want to be friends with someone who didn’t care whether I would be upset or not. That is not to say I have been or am perfect because I have a laundry list of flaws I am aware of and expect some people would be happy to add to that.

Still, I think it is probably harder to be reconcile the actions of those who don’t try to help you when life gets rough. The fair weather friend who walks away when you are falling down the cliff and bouncing off of the rocks hits a different sort of tender spot.

You might not forget about how he and your ex shared things you would rather left hidden to the imagination, but you can come up with a million reasons why it happened. Might not be good or great but you can figure that out.

What feels inexplicable is the person who could have helped you break your fall or at least given your hand up, but doesn’t.

There is a special place for those people. I am lucky in that I haven’t had any real experience with that, but I have had others.

Sometimes I want them to tell me why they want to be my friend.I won’t ask, but I think it.


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