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The Death Of Friendship

This is not as tragic as it sounds. But it is about friendship.
I was just reading an article on Medium today, some bs about deep thinkers who have problems connecting with others because others think they are hard work when I realised I should pick up writing here. Again. Because there’s stuff to say, revelations to be shared.

Friendship is not forever.

Two things – I can already hear the little girl’s voice from Loving Sabotage by Amélie Nothomb saying ‘Doooh, I told you being a girl is your life’s greatest achievement.’ And the other, the sceptics cancelling me with a ‘Don’t be so dramatic. People change. It’s normal.’

Let me tell you this. I am proud to crash my head on the pavement in (what is now) a dying belief of the opposite.

Friendship is forever. Or, at least, it should be.

Why? Because if we allow ourselves to be truly vulnerable, we will find out that friendship goes back to that place in your heart that doesn’t really ever change. That tiny room where the light is always on. The very being.

But, of course, we exist to build walls around that room, foolishly thinking we protect ourselves. Instead, we only lock ourselves out. And then we claim friendship fades because we fade; well, I believe the term we use is change, we change.

If this is change, I don’t want it.

If change means something other than evolution in the spirit of preserving that light, it shouldn’t exist.
I meet people and they say ‘Why, Oana, you haven’t changed one bit.’ It makes me happy. Even if sometimes it’s slightly pejorative. I am who I am because of a past I have and keep vivid with me.

I live in all past, present and future at once.

And with that, I carry all friendships through time. Or used to anyway. Until recently, when I am ashamed to admit, I have been defeated a little. Not by sceptics, not by maleficent forces, but by my own passengers.

It’s funny how evolution works even at this quasi-spiritual level.

You sneak someone in, offer anything you think is right, and yet they still wither and die. I say, ‘It wasn’t meant to be’ and move on to those left. That is my growing up. I am not proud of it, but I have to admit there is not so much energy going around as it used to be. So I need to take care of what is left.