Let the Wine of Friendship Never Run Dry -Thursday, February 12, 2004 -4:33 am-
Talking to one of my friends tonight reaffirmed my conviction that I am more than a little odd. The specific dimension of my oddness is, tonight, friendship. For most of my life, I didn't have friends, and certainly I didn't associate with anyone less than 2 decades older than myself. This changed, abruptly, at the end of my Sophomore year of High School when I became mired in Theatre. My Theatre troupe at South was my first experience with having people care about me who weren't obligated to. That is to say, it was the first time I encountered people who liked me for some other reason than that they were family. Theses people that came so suddenly crashing into my life cared deeply about their friends. The environment in which I learned to socialize loved each other more strongly than most families. This love was given without hesitation and reciprocated without obligation. Acceptance was instant and persisted until overwhelming reason to retract it was given. Because of this, I had no concept of friendship without unconditional love and no concept of not becoming instant comrades. Eventually, I moved on to college where I found... nothing (Mich is a special case and not counted amongst the ranks of normal friends). This didn't seem odd to me, after all, for the first 16 years of my life, I hadn't had friends. Then, at the end of my Junior year at OSU, Mich introduced me to the Rennies. At first, it seemed I was home again. Everyone acted open, talked the same talk, had the same flamboyant characters that I knew from Theatre. The rules of friendship I had previously learned in high school came back. As time passed, I came to realize that, for the most part, this similarity was totally superficial. The was the impression of openness, the act of caring, but behind the facade, the was nothing. Again, this is for the most part, there are several exceptions. I became confused, here was a social group who were outwardly similar, who professed to be the same as, the people I had known before, but the soul of the thing wasn't there. Adapting to the new rules, I shed my expectance of true familiarity with anyone. I now had a class friends, and a class acquaintances. I was saddened (and still am) at how small the first class is and how large the second. In the time since then, thankfully, a few people have turned out to be as I first thought they should have been.
Tonight, I was talking with one of those few who are as they should be. Today, she went through something I have far too much familiarity with. I told her that I had been through this too and talked a little about how I had felt, and how I had dealt with it. She told me she appreciated the effort, but that it wasn't the same because it was family. My thought was, "You're right, it wouldn't have been so bad if it had been family." It was in that thought that I realized my difference from other people with respect to friendship. I value the family I earn much more than the family I was born too, and I expect others to do the same. When I am teasing my friends and they claim to be fed up with me, I often say "hey, you love me" and actually expect that they do. This caused much confusion on my part when I did this to another one of my friends and her reply was "no, I don't." At first I thought she was joking, then I realized she meant it. I was hurt and very confused at the time. Now, I get it. Not everyone thinks that having many people whom you love, and whom love you in return, is the greatest aspiration in this life. My friends get this from me until... well, I haven't found an until yet.