I live a pretty full, but pretty quiet, life. I have wonderful people who come in and out with their own forms of regularity. My oldest friend – every two months. My sister – every two weeks. My closest friend in town – every three to four weeks. An old work-mate – every six weeks or so. Then there are others, of course, who pop in and out – wonderful friends that I love to catch up with but for whatever reason just aren’t part of the main corps.
But then there are the not-quite friends. People I used to be very close to but have drifted far away from. People who I realized at one point or another weren’t my friend (I was their friend but rarely were they mine). And then there are the male friends that can’t quite figure out if they want to be my friend or more than my friend. In these instances I usually end up falling into this deep-dark limbo that is not-quite either and therefore not much at all.
For me, friends are like family. My actual family may be pretty stable with little to no divorce but I feel like I’ve had my fair share of turmoil in the family of friends I’ve surrounded myself with.
I’ve never been someone who needs constancy, but I do need consistency. I love consistency. I have no problem knowing that I’ll talk to my oldest friend every two months. We’ve know each other for (crap) 22 years – we aren’t going anywhere and a two-hour chat brings a party nostalgia with it. And so, erratic friends (granted usually, but not always, of the male variety) who will call one day, drop in the next and disappear for four weeks or four months – Well, those I’m not emotionally equipped (or mature enough) to handle. To me there is a lack of respect and, if nothing else, friendship is all about respect.
And for me, I need respect even more than I need regularity.