A bone to pick with you, Friend

I have been contemplating the kind of friend I would like to be and the kinds of friends I want to surround myself with. The kinds of the friends I want to immerse my life in and dedicate my life to. The very people who call themselves friend, my friend, my friends, is used very loosely. I do not count the numbers that are marked "friend" on Facebook because those are just names on a list, but signify nothing. They don't mean love, happiness, loyalty, health or healing. They don't mean anything. Friends on Facebook are just eyes, just judgement, sometimes snobbery, noses who put themselves in places maybe you'd prefer them not to be or sometimes they are words that you wait for, words that you long for. Facebook 'Friends' are empty promises.

The kinds of friends I want are flesh, blood and bone with listening ears, blind eyes and big hearts. I used to think I had no shortage of friends, but in the days that I grow older and think more and more to myself, I know that it is no longer true. Friends come and go out of and in of your life. I understand now why people like D.P. don't believe in distance and in friends. Friends are temporary in her opinion and go like the weather and the days. You can't stop it, you can't change it. It just "is." I never believed that friends would just drop of your life like a dead fly out of the air, but they do.

Need proof? I need go no further than back here. I have four walls and a door that I can choose to walk out of. I have made up my mind to let people in but I am putting my foot down and not letting some through. I told you, I have thought what kind of friends I'd like, I need and I want. The kind of friend I am. I am a flawed human being but I care more than anybody in the world. I will shed tears for you and grow angry and protective when I feel you are in danger and I will love you, almost always without question. But.

But. I cannot do this. Not anymore. Not for some of you.

You talk behind my back. You judge me. You say I am undeserving and you believe it. You don't really love me for me. You think I'm not worthy.

How dare you. How dare you. How dare you.

You hurt me. You make me angry. You make me ashamed. You shame me. You have devastated me. And I shall not recover. I cannot do that anymore. I am beyond repair you see. No you don't. You truly have become blind. I am of no longer any use to you. I am no longer relevant. I'm too slow. Too stupid. Too below you. I am not worth your time anymore.

Don't worry. I won't let the door hit me on the way out. You made it very clear what your intentions are.

So the number of friends have shrunk and perhaps there aren't many, but the ones who remain are like gold peering out of the pan in some grubby river bank, my body sinking into the abyss but that hope is pulling me to the surface.

The rest of you can get back in the river and wash away. Maybe one day over the horizon...I'll see you down stream. Until then, I will stay on the other side of the water and upwind of you.

I am tired. I need reserves of patience, unconditional love, tolerance and care. Not unlike you, surprisingly enough. Not more or less, but the same amount. Old friend, you can find it in whoever now makes you happy. You have shown me my place and you know where I'll be.

I in time can muster forgiveness, but right now. The door is closed.