My Friends

 I am, by nature, a loner.

In my younger days, I had few friends — just one or two — and we spent long hours together. But when the time came, we parted ways and lost touch with one another.

During my university years, I had two close friends. The three of us were inseparable, often studying and praying together. Our shared passion for Christianity, and the bright zeal of youth, bound us tightly. Even now, we stay in contact, though not as often as we once did.

In dramas and movies, I often see depictions of childhood friends growing up together, remaining companions for life. I have no such story. I watch and think, how wonderful — but I do not feel envy.

Most of the time, I prefer solitude.

Still, life brings many “friends” — fleeting connections born of shared interests and activities. We meet, we do things together, and for a time, we call each other friends.

I am kind to most of them, considerate and caring. But sometimes, sensing nonsense in their words or ways, I slowly step back and fade away.

In truth, I am deeply selective about the people I allow close. I do not hesitate to walk away from those who bring noise instead of meaning.

For example:

One friend often spoke of her love affairs, though she remained single. I could not bear her detailed, explicit stories; they made me long for escape.

Another friend boasts about the young men who court her — though she is married and well into her forties.

No doubt, they are beautiful women. But beauty attracts bees, and rotten things attract flies — neither is a thing to boast about.

With a few rare friends, I find what I truly treasure: the exchange of ideas, encouragement, research, and growth.

Those are the friendships I hold dear.