When I was a little kid, I was desperate to make friends. From the Fox and the Hound to Ernie and Bert, all my role models had best friends, so I wanted some, too.
So, I did the logical thing: I told everyone how clever, smart, and talented I was, because surely everyone would want to befriend a great kid like that.
Yeah. Didn’t work out so swimmingly. For some CRAZY reason, everyone thought I was arrogant.
Which elementary-aged me found confusing as hell, because the opposite was true: I’m not doing this ‘cause I’m arrogant — I’m doing it ‘cause I’m wildly insecure!
But eventually, I developed better social skills.
My parents credited my (eventual) maturity. I think it had just as much to do with trial and error. (A whole lot of errors.) But if you’re really motivated to make friends — and if you’re willing to be a generous friend in return — it’s amazing how quickly you can build rock-solid relationships.
From 18 through 25, my friendship groups were all-important: These were the people I saw all the time — my “brothers by choice” and “friends for life.” I was living on my own, but had nothing to fear: My friends ALWAYS had my back.
And I always had theirs.
The adventures we had! The insane stunts we pulled! You kidding me?! I could call ‘em in the dead of night, and they’d race to my side — no questions asked.
Then I met my (now) wife. Two kids — and three or four zip codes later — most of my “friends for life” have dropped off the radar.
I mean, I’m still connected to a few on Facebook, but we don’t talk anymore. Not really.
But honestly? For most of the last 20 years, I was having so much fun with my kids and my family, I didn’t really miss ‘em.
I mean, sure — I’d relive our adventures in my brain and think about how great it’d be when we’d (eventually) catch up — but my priorities were different. Those weren’t the guys I wanted to make unforgettable “moments of magic” with anymore.
And so, they stopped being my family.
Instead, I spent all my time with my kids.
And we’ve had a blast together! Been to all the amusement parks and all the rides. Caught bands ranging from Iron Maiden (twice!), Ghost, Falling in Reverse, Avenged Sevenfold, Dragon Force, and, uh, Tori Amos (long story on that one). Seen all the Marvel movies and binge-watched all the shows. Did “story time” every night. Fishing, swimming, football, wrestling, driving practice (and/or prayer)… For 18+ years, I was the world’s luckiest guy, because all my favorite people were living under my roof.
I forgot what loneliness felt like.
Now my oldest is almost 19. Just finished his Army Cavalry training and will be starting at James Madison University next semester. My youngest isn’t far behind.
Looks like I need friends again.
Over the past two or so years, I built a friendship group at one of the neighborhood bars. Really cool folks there. It wasn’t something I planned to do, but if you show up enough times and/or yap to enough people, before you know it, you’re gonna make friends.
I genuinely like my bar buddies. We all text and joke all the time.
But I also know that these are the kinds of friendships that probably won’t last: Once I stop showing up at the bar, our relationship will gradually fade away.
Like a ghost in the night.
Most friendships, after all, don’t last.
When I think back on all the close friends I’ve had — and how few of ‘em have survived the test of time — it’s depressing. On one hand, I fully understand that not every friendship is meant to last forever. And in some ways, five months of a really great friendship can mean more than a lifelong “friend” who’s just sort of going through the motions.
But on the other hand, it’s humbling to note that the one common denominator of every failed friendship you’ve ever had is… you.
My biggest mistake was treating friends one way — yet expecting them to treat me another. For example, if a friend did something to hurt me, even accidentally, I’d be quick to assume the worst: If he was a REAL friend, he never would’ve acted this way! Hrmmf, I don’t wanna be “friends” with a jerk like that.
But on the other hand, if I did something wrong, I’d expect forgiveness: C’mon, you know me! Why won’t you give me the benefit of the doubt? That’s what friends are supposed to do!
I’ve gotten better at this, but sometimes I still feel that stupid, self-destructive impulse rearing its ugly head. Even in my 50s, I’m still a work in progress.
Three observations about friends:
- The ones who stick around and become your lifelong, ride-or-die, truly dependable, dead-of-night friends are almost NEVER the ones you’d first suspect.
- The right friend — at the right time — has saved more people from suicide than anyone will ever know.
- It’s not the friend with the brightest smile or the most magnetic personality who’ll still stand by your side at the end of the day. It’s the one whose values stood for something real.
