A lesson in friendship and conversation

A lesson in friendship and conversation

I’m the guy that has an abundance of friends, but on the contrary, I am very much alone.

I don’t belong to a singular friendship group. The way it’s depicted in American cable sitcoms is the exact opposite of my current situation with my friends.

No coffeehouses or bars with a close group of 5 or 6 people; I find it’s usually up to me to entertain myself.

And I’m OK with that.

My reasoning for this article is simple: With some of my friends, I have no chance of squeezing a word in. None at all.

I’ve realised that some of the friendships I’ve made and maintained are based on a lot of giving, and very little taking back. I usually end up listening to everyone else’s worldly troubles, and never voice my own.

For me, I like the fact that people perhaps perceive me as someone who has their shit together. I also feel valued that people turn to me for advice and support in times of hardship.

But this is where the line stops.

Because one person’s hardship is another person’s bullshit, and I often find myself listening to more bullshit than genuine hardship.

I’ll listen to real concerns, real worries and real thoughts. Maybe you’re anxious and overwhelmed, sad and depressed and just need to vent.

But I won’t offer you an ear if what you’re saying isn’t true or genuine to you, if what your saying doesn’t have a direct affect on you.

Today, people make up drama because they’re bored in life, because they’re unsatisfied with having no challenge.

This is survivors guilt.

Those minuscule moments of tantrum are merely issues created for the issueless.

These issues are created because people don’t have any hardship at all, because generations before us went through hell to make sure we have it easy.

But people need dilemma, at least to feel normal, to feel like someone cares.

And I do care, but only if you’re willing to care back.