Quite recently, I was having a phone conversation, with a most unexpected source. A friend whom I have not seen in over 10 years, and whom I met about 17 years ago for the first time, as a co-worker in one of the first jobs I had.
This person called me because she (yep, a female friend) is coming on business to London, and wondered if we could meet and catch up - after all, a 10 years gap is a large one, not so?
In the middle of the conversation I realised something - in the past decade or so, every one (and I mean every one) of the persons I have called a friend at some point in my life - has disappointed me. Not in big ways, after all, you don't really need friends for big things (nope, you need cronies for that).
I mean, moving to England years ago was the start of this unravelling of friendships ... or was it? When I moved here, I wrote long letters (and I mean long since I love writing) to everyone I considered a friend. Five to ten pages handwritten, both sides of a sheet.. it doesn't get better than that, right? I described everything, from the culture shock I experienced to the experiences of going on a double-decker bus for the first time, even how I was coping with my first winter.
Guess what? Not even one reply. Except for my immediate family that is.
Thinking back, the people I was close to didn't just disappoint me, they actually hurt me, casting me off like an old shoe so to speak. The thing is, back then I thought I needed the connection to keep strong as being alone in a faraway place - well, I didn't as it turns out.
But I think the unravelling started even before I left Trinidad. Looking back (what do they say about hindsight?), I realise that most of the time I was the one driving to visit, or calling.
So what is it that makes us value the friendships we have less and less as time passes? I have observed that funnily enough, we can make time for a funeral, but never the sick (unless it's a reason for a lime or get off work). We can make time for a party but never for a drop in just to talk and be supportive.
Recently I started corresponding again (is there a word like 'pen-palling'?) and so far, about three persons have been writing faithfully. For that I am glad, they may be kindred spirits for whom contact is a sign that the friendship still has value.
For now.
But for all the former friends who couldn't keep the ties that bind, I can only express myself thusly!
This person called me because she (yep, a female friend) is coming on business to London, and wondered if we could meet and catch up - after all, a 10 years gap is a large one, not so?
In the middle of the conversation I realised something - in the past decade or so, every one (and I mean every one) of the persons I have called a friend at some point in my life - has disappointed me. Not in big ways, after all, you don't really need friends for big things (nope, you need cronies for that).
I mean, moving to England years ago was the start of this unravelling of friendships ... or was it? When I moved here, I wrote long letters (and I mean long since I love writing) to everyone I considered a friend. Five to ten pages handwritten, both sides of a sheet.. it doesn't get better than that, right? I described everything, from the culture shock I experienced to the experiences of going on a double-decker bus for the first time, even how I was coping with my first winter.
Guess what? Not even one reply. Except for my immediate family that is.
Thinking back, the people I was close to didn't just disappoint me, they actually hurt me, casting me off like an old shoe so to speak. The thing is, back then I thought I needed the connection to keep strong as being alone in a faraway place - well, I didn't as it turns out.
But I think the unravelling started even before I left Trinidad. Looking back (what do they say about hindsight?), I realise that most of the time I was the one driving to visit, or calling.
So what is it that makes us value the friendships we have less and less as time passes? I have observed that funnily enough, we can make time for a funeral, but never the sick (unless it's a reason for a lime or get off work). We can make time for a party but never for a drop in just to talk and be supportive.
Recently I started corresponding again (is there a word like 'pen-palling'?) and so far, about three persons have been writing faithfully. For that I am glad, they may be kindred spirits for whom contact is a sign that the friendship still has value.
For now.
But for all the former friends who couldn't keep the ties that bind, I can only express myself thusly!
