When I was in school it was hard for me to make friends.
I’m not sure why.
I was, perhaps, a little shy
an easy target for some,
and so
withdrawing seemed to be an effective way of protection.
I spent alot of time on my own
or with one good friend
and not many people came to my house.
I was upset with my mother when she would say no
but now I understand.
My father was often drunk and mean.
My brother was aggressive.
It wasn’t something you wanted to put on show for the little girl up the road
who might mention it to her mother,
who might mention it to her neighbour.
In a way, friendship was not such an important thing.
I didn’t really trust anyone who wanted to befriend me, either.
After the years of constant bullying
other kids were just people I had to learn to coexist with.
In highschool,
when I was about fifteen
I found a wonderfully eclectic group of girls,
who were my life.
Things were very bad at home and they were always there.
We were the rejects from each of the other groups.
Members, kicked out of their preferred gaggle
and mashed together, as only highschool can do.
Soon after that the boys came into the mix.
There were ups and downs, of course but during those years
I felt like we would be friends forever.
That didn’t happen.
We all went our separate ways
and without school to bind us together
we didn’t have alot in common.
The truth is, I didn’t try very hard either.
As an adult, it’s been very much the same as when I was a child.
I’ve only managed to keep one or two good friends at a time.
When things get hard
I step away.
I’m never able to let anyone get too close
and I am not the type of person to phone or email or text.
Basically I’m just not good at it.
I am a bad friend.
You wouldn’t want to be my friend.
When things get tough at my end
I become selfish and self centred
and I put my head in the sand.
Alot.
I’m not social.
I prefer to be at home
and I am shy.
It has been said that friendship shouldn’t be hard.
For me though, it is.
It’s one of the hardest things in the world.
