Fickle Friend

Sorry is a word that means nothing anymore, like a Frisbee being tossed around on a summer day. It’s just another word that has entered into disuse. We are living in a world where some things hold little to no value. People are outright liars. Friends are outright liars.

Camaraderie is too fickle a thing to fall into. We keep on bending over backwards, forcibly trying to gain each other’s trust. We keep on grasping for something that we could never get, like an unreachable chalet up the mountain. We move heaven and earth for something that wasn’t really there to start with. A fib. Nothing more than a piece of fiction we so fervently hoped would last a lifetime. But, it is then, when we are at our most vulnerable and disbelieving, that we find the things we have overlooked. Important things we turned a blind eye on. The things that really mean the most to us. It is then that we turn to thank those who have stood with us. It is when we have nothing left to believe in, that we find the people who believe in us most: our blood, our family, or those whom we have just known so long and so well they might as well be.

Reality gave me a wake-up call. People do come and go. So I convinced myself to just release my grip because, you see, in between the misspent time and the blatant naiveté, that fickle friend is nothing more than just a bittersweet memory.