My therapist tells me I am a dream friend - one that few are lucky to have in their whole lifetime and that so many wish they had.
If that’s the case, why am I only good for being vented to, giving a listening ear, taking care of animals during your out of town trips, being understanding when I am cancelled on or forgotten or ignored.
I know what kind of friend I am.
I am the back burner friend.
The one who is put off for later, when plans fall through and you realize you’ve forgotten me, but I’m always there - because I didn’t forget about you. And for some reason, I am so desperate to be loved, desperate to be accepted, and I am desperate to be taken off of the burner for a bit.
You stir me around and scrape off the scorched bits and reincorporate them until I don’t seem like I was left to simmer for too long, and then when you’re done, right back I go. Only to be forgotten and scorched again.
I am the Lazy-Susan friend.
The friend, similar to that cooking ingredient on your Lazy-Susan, that is only kept around for the rare occasion you need me. You consider throwing me out because you hardly ever use me, but then you remember that I serve you a purpose every now and then. It is simply easier to keep me around for those moments, rather than go out and find a new me. You place me back on the tray, only to spin around and around and around, and I watch myself be picked over, until the day comes when no one else serves you.
I am the porch light friend.
The one you have no interest in until everything else in your world goes dark, and you draw near to me. the way a moth leeches off of the brightness of a porch light.
I am not the friend who is first to be thought of, your ride along buddy, the one you write birthday paragraphs about, your soul mate, or your twin flame.
I am the forgotten one, the understanding one, the one who never complains, the one who doesn’t make you feel horrible for how you treat me - in fact, I actually make you feel better about yourself. I am convenient and helpful in a pinch. You can make promises and plans and I will never make you keep them.
Today, it makes sense to sit at home and not answer texts or calls. Why draw myself out of isolation? At least this way, I am doing it to myself and it’s not at your hand.
Here’s to the back burner, Lazy-Susan, and porch light people of the world.
