The Curious Incident of the Friend in the Nighttime
I think that I get myself into a lot of situations where I am friends with people simply because we work with, or near, each other. And I discover that when I try to be friends with them, in these situations, I tend to try too hard and make mistakes.
It is then that I discover, by their reactions, that we aren’t really friends at all.
And I tend to really like these people.
But the conclusion always seems to be that they don’t really care about me at all.
I think that many of these people, the moment they no longer see me or are no longer required to interact, I pass from their thoughts.
Generally, I do not mind that I have few friends, for I’d like to think it is quality over quantity.
But when someone I want to be my friend, or consider my friend, isn’t: it is times like that: I feel terribly lonely.
It is then that I discover, by their reactions, that we aren’t really friends at all.
And I tend to really like these people.
But the conclusion always seems to be that they don’t really care about me at all.
I think that many of these people, the moment they no longer see me or are no longer required to interact, I pass from their thoughts.
Generally, I do not mind that I have few friends, for I’d like to think it is quality over quantity.
But when someone I want to be my friend, or consider my friend, isn’t: it is times like that: I feel terribly lonely.
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