My friends cannot read my mind. They don’t know everything I know.
I’ve fallen into the trap of thinking they’ve absorbed my knowledge or emotion via some strange external osmosis, but they haven’t. If I’m having a bad day and put on a brave face, they will never know I need to be comforted. They won’t know not to believe me when I lie and say everything is alright.
Sometimes I think they wouldn’t want to be bothered. Why talk to them about something they can’t fix, or wouldn’t understand? But who will I celebrate with when I come out victorious on the other side? How will I convey the devastation of my defeat as I sit there and lick my wounds?
We make friends to share the load. To carry our collective burdens so they don’t break our backs. Your friends will not be weighed down by your problems. They will not leave because you are struggling. If they cannot help they will wait patiently for you to get through; ready with whatever support you need in the aftermath.
And if they do abandon you, were they really your friends at all?
Stay good and keep transmitting.
-AJ Sandhu 2016