This is a story about an uninteresting friend from a long time ago. He was awkward, quiet and shy, so he struggled to make friends. He looked sad and lonely. Sitting by himself most of the time. He was generous and kind. He saw I was having a hard time, so he offered to help. He was looking to make a friend and relieve some of the depression that comes from being so isolated in life. Although he wouldnāt make a great impression on my friends, I agreed because I needed what he had.
We ended spending time together off and on, as we both were getting what we needed. As the weeks went by, he invited me to a few events he didnāt want to attend alone. I went out of obligation as he had done so much for me. He was on my Top 10 list of people to hang out with, and I would if the other 9 were busy. Heād often buy me things I didnāt really need but liked. Some I didnāt want. Some things were really cool, and others not so much. Over time, it became too much and awkward. He was hoping my excitement would bring him happiness. I felt he was just trying to buy my friendship and some sense of being loved. In the end, I was putting on the fake smile which he could sense. The happiness he was so desperately seeking never came in great quantities. The small fragments were so fleeting. It must have been devastating.
He finally realized I never had the intention of being his real friend. I was just using him to get me through. He checked some boxes in my life that I needed, but nothing I wanted. This relationship was never going to be what he needed. He needed validation, love and value that came from someone else seeing value in him. It was a personality flaw. His value came from what others saw in him, not what he saw in himself. I was everything to him, and I rarely thought of him unless I needed something.
He tried to confide in me about the struggles of life. How hard it was to be alone and the sadness that comes with it. Sometimes I wouldnāt respond until days later, if at all. It just never seemed to be a good time. He wasnāt a priority for me to make time for him. Other people were always around or Iād be looking at my phone. Weād be in a group setting, and Iād sit away from him across the room on the couch. Not even noticing he needed a moment of āyouāre someone special in my life, and thanks for being here.ā Ā I once mentioned he should talk to someone else, but I knew he needed to talk to me. He so desperately craved love or value or quality one-on-one time from me, but it never happened. I just didnāt value him. āJust tell me you need me, even if youāre lying.ā, he once said. I never gave him even 5 minutes of quiet attention to help him with this heavy weight he was obviously carrying.
One day he sent me quite a long message about being sad, unappreciated and undervalued. It was late, and I didnāt have the energy to respond. I fell asleep before he was even done. I had important places be and important people to be with tomorrow. So, the next day, I sent him a generic āitās ok to be sadā response. Iām not sure I even read everything he sent. I sometimes wonder what he thought about that.
He stopped calling, texting and stopping by. Being young and distracted with my real friends and busy life, I never did reach out to him. He was there one day, gone the next. After a few weeks went by, I asked around. Nobody knew what happened to him or cared much to find out, including me. Maybe he moved away. Maybe he died. Who knows? Who cares? I'm fine. His friendship may have helped me get to where I am today, but I could have done it without him. I donāt need himā¦.never did.
Now that Iām older and all my old friends have moved on with their own lives, I spend a lot time alone and a bit sad. I reflect about a lot of things, but him most often. I hope heās doing well, but I will never know. I hope he found someone that could really appreciate and love him like I couldnāt, but probably not. He was a special person that I hadnāt taken the time to give back what he had given. He didnāt want material things as he had given, but wanted to be valued, noticed and loved.
Chapter 1 is the real story. Chapter 2 is a fairy tale. Heād always hoped the person he cared for and needed so much would think about him someday, and finally realize he was someone special, valuable and worth her time. The reality isā¦.She didnāt care much for him thenā¦. doesnāt nowā¦. and never willā¦.and it was his fault for hoping she would.
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