Am I my friend’s keeper?

 

 

 

 

 

Have you ever walked into a room and realize everyone in it was just talking about you? They have faces of shock and surprise, and yet, you know they are thinking that you walked in at the perfect moment.

It happens. To me, it happened long before I realized it did.

My inner circle of friends has changed dramatically since I began college. There are those I am friendly with, those that are the keepers of my secrets, and those that are the keepers to everything that makes me who I am. This set is my elite—my select few.

I have been thinking for the past few days about loyalty and true friends. I believe that your relationships with your friends are just as crucial than your significant other. Why? Because before you are willing to completely open up to that one person you think is “the one”, your friends are your lifelines a la “Who Wants to be a Millionaire”.

With boyfriends and girlfriends, loyalty may be telling each other if they (honestly) look fat in those pants you bought on sale at Bloomingdale’s, or harboring their guilty pleasures of biting their toenails (I was going with obscure, just go with it) or just being monogamous. Sometimes it’s graver, but like our friends, they are entrusted with allegiance. But unlike friendships, sometimes the relationships are tossed aside when the loyalty is broken. Friendships sometimes sustain more, like a pair of Converse sneakers you can’t bear throwing away, though you are told over and over again they should be.

Since I began college, I realized I had a lot of growing up to do. Not that I am immature (though I love raunchy comedies and would eat chocolate for breakfast), but I realized that my friends were unsupportive of my decisions, personal or professional. Mind you, I wore the clothes I liked, said the things I wanted to say, but I found that I harbored my secrets carefully and did not disclose specific information unless I felt compelled to put it out in the open.

Then, I realized why.

It wasn’t that I was insecure with myself; I felt the need to be approved of by my friends. The difference was that I possessed both integrity and independence. I had both and was afraid to use them. With these girls, every guy I dated wasn’t good enough. I only found out after the fact. Initially, they would beam and say how wonderful he was, whoever he was at the time. Eventually, I learned to not be mistaken—it was a façade, a gilded cradle. And when the bough would break, as it did several times, I will fall from the top of the security tree, and I was (again) the baby that wasn’t caught. Suddenly, I became damaged goods. So the “Oh, he’s great” lampoon turned into “I didn’t want to bring it up but…” and a laundry list of the things he did wrong (according to them) were read off:

“Hear ye! Hear ye! Our dear, dear friend has f*cked up once again!” They try to soften the blow, trying to rip off a band-aid without causing too much pain. Then, when their backs are turned, you know that they are picking a little, talking a little. In your head, you hear “paranoia will destroy ya”, while your heart says, “run out while you still can.” The same thing happened with the relationship… the quips and asinine comments you thought you heard cause you to lean in and listen. Only the guy isn’t the problem; the problem is you, fearing that making a mistake will destroy your being, and if you look back, you are setting yourself up to be a pillar of salt: frozen and inhuman like Stepford wife.

My mom always said that including your mother; your true friends can be counted on one hand, and one hand alone. Turns out, Mom was right. Of these “friends”, I was the only one who felt sexually confident. I could say or do anything I wished, though I wouldn’t act on something unless I felt comfortable with it. With my guy friends, I was comfortable. It grew more apparent that these girls were my enemy, with their noses turned to the sky, craning their necks as though they had been above and beyond anything that had to do with sex. The old saying “don’t judge a book by its cover” was something they lived for.

I decided to escape Neverland, broke the chains and played the courtesy cold superior. I was above the nonsense; until I found out that the freak show of friendships that has remained on tour since childhood… and has no intention of going away. Captain Hook-me-onto-the-B.S. was back in action before I knew it. And on a few occasions, I watched the friends I had left sit idly by and remain friendly, enjoyable, loyal, unaware that the were about to wander into the icy core of Hell, where the Devil chews the heads of the worst friends of all: Brutus, Cassius, and Judas. Needless to say, my old friends were summoned there soon enough too.

Loyalty is a big thing with relationships, whether between friends or lovers. To me, lovers (as in boyfriends and girlfriends, husbands and wives) are the strongest friendships, because they are in touch with every aspect of you… friends are held back from certain things. So being there and being there are two completely different things. Some people need to be showered with support while others are the providers. (In case you’re wondering, I’ve been both). Now, it is played out in every aspect of life. We’re told, “it’s not personal, it’s business.” What they don’t tell you is that it’s the business of bullshit you’re involved in.

There, I said it.

I have a friend of mine who has a tumultuous relationship, a marriage if you will, with one of her best friends. While this girl is her foundation, her keeper, I could see from a mile away as while she has been there for her, she has never been there—the dark and cold recess of opaque oblivion. Friends and lovers that get there and can get you out are the real best friends. This girl is not, despite what she may think.

My friend tells me, “Long story really short, we have a loyalty issue”, and says they are not on speaking terms (although they are living in the same place). I know that eventually, everything will be completely fine (as in masked with content) until tragedy strikes again.

To this I asked myself, are we our friends’ keepers? Or are we supposed to be our own best friends, trust ourselves first before we reach out and touch faith with someone else?
When I find the answer, I’ll let you know.