I know I’m lucky to say this, but I haven’t been badly burned by people who call themselves my friends. I haven’t really been belittled or backstabbed, forgotten or forsaken. For any of you who carry around hurts from friends – especially people you once deeply cared about – I’m sorry. There are people out there who won’t do that to you, and I hope they find you soon.
Good friends make me better off. They have changed me in good ways. They haven’t just been people to complain to and go to movies with. They do this really amazing thing of knowing who I am, accepting who I am, and loving who I am. I mean… I can’t even do that for myself all the time! But these people who have heard me make a fool of myself, seen what a mess I can make of my bedroom, and experienced me obsess over things that won’t fulfill me… they choose to love me, and they express that to me.
Here’s how I’m better off because of these people:
- when I thought I had screwed up bad enough to lose my job, one friend picked me up at almost midnight to encourage me and cheer me up
- when I finally ended a saga and let go of an apathetic guy, one friend (my best) sent me an email full of praise, making me sound like the most wonderful girl that he rejected
- when I realized that I needed to end said saga, another friend sat until I had talked out and freaked out
- when I’m ever frowning (even if just on the inside), one of my roommates notices and checks on me
- when I’m broke, my friends buy my meal
- when I need to talk, I know that I’m welcome to waltz into my friend’s bedroom, day or night, without introduction or reason
- when I scream in my sleep, my friend is ready to beat up somebody with a field hockey stick, just in case that’s ever the reason that I’m screaming
- when I’m afraid that I’m abnormal, my (best) friend always proves that I’m not by sharing her own relatable experiences with me and assuring me that I’m fine
- when I need a place to stay, my friends offer their parents’ house
- when I want to quote the hilariousness of favorite movies and shows, there are the perfect friends who appreciate them as much as I do
- when I lament my inability to be funny, my friends remind me that my laughing makes up for it
- and much more.
So what have my friends done to me? They’ve spoiled me for fair-weather friends, mediocre friends, and uncaring friends. I’m accustomed to the best now.