The things I had, Part 03

It is a very interesting topic which I wanted to cover in this part – friends.

It is often quite amazing how much friends can influence one’s life. The influences were, and are aplenty in my life as well – shaping from something as little as how a person talks, to as big as taking and sharing ideas and working on them till we come to an unified conclusion. School life, college life : ‘life’ as a whole, has been something of a journey to me. I intend to write this without trying to make a victim out of me here, which sours the main point. I don’t want to be apologetic to people as well, as during the course of time, for any of my misdemeanor.

I have stopped being regretful of my past actions. My past will haunt me forever, since it had a major role shaping my present. Every day I look at myself in the mirror, I see a reflection of my past. No sickening physical tortures, but mental humiliation; conservation of thoughts; snubbing of free will;

I have become a ghost of myself. Friends, they merely played their part.

Blessed is the being who has confidantes by his or her side – but years later, I can tell safely now, that no one says good words to you, or stays by your side, without a purpose of his or her own. Altruists and true friends will curse me for this – but that hardly proves anything else. The rarity of friends who are your true well wishers is a truth which I’ve learned the hard way.

One of my bad habits is to try to help people out. I find it hard to say ‘No’ when someone asks for my help. Sometimes those needs turn out to be real, and at times I find myself struggling to come out of it. An ever consuming black hole of desires, deadly yet masked by the veil of innocence. But dastardly old me – I could never let go of this habit. Falling in the trap, again and again.

My horrid past had removed me from most of my school friends. Somehow I could never go past that barrier. Outcast from the rest of the crew, I have somehow survived inside a niche of my own. College friends – apart from a few, I have again followed the same ordeal. If you try to communicate, you get humiliated ; if you stop communicating, you’re labeled a snob and a proud, distant creature. I stopped going into all this altogether.

I continue to meet new people everyday, through the social networking sites, on my way to and back from office, during my roaming-around sessions. They amuse me in various ways. But somewhere along the way, I’ve stopped making true friends. Every single friend who’ve been close to me have had a piece of myself, given to them willingly by me. Most of them have thrown those pieces away. Within me, those little vacuums have been slowly filled with cynical, sarcastic realms of darkness. The little floating island of hope and glee ~ I don’t want to erode it anymore. Too much darkness might unleash the animal I kept long hidden within.

Here’s to all the friends, past and present. Here’s to all those good people who truly cared for me, and those two-faced backstabbers who never missed an opportunity to stab me. You truly have made me who I am.

Humble thanks.


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