Generally speaking, I'm not a good friend to have. I almost never hold up my end of the bargain when it comes to maintaining the friendship. At various times in my life, I have had almost zero contact for months (or even years) with folks I consider my closest friends. Social media only reinforces that lack of contact because we convince ourselves that liking or commenting on a post is the same as being in touch.
But I can't blame social media for my failure because I have truly always been this way. I dropped out of touch with people whom I love for years and years at a time. We'd reconnect somehow, and then I'd be gone again for the same period of time. My life and its trappings of the moment -- be it young adulthood, working with a lot of travel, marriage, kids, more work -- is all I could (or would) pay attention to. As I'm a fairly solitary person to begin with -- hello, Eldest, in case you were wondering where you get it from -- it's so easy to do.
Approaching 60 as I am...
[Oh my fuckin god! I wrote those words just then and my heart started pounding. I'm nearly 60. Damn. Eh.]
Approaching 60 as I am, I have many people in my life whom I have known 40 years and whom I consider good friends. I have told myself that they recognize this flaw in me and they accept me even with that critical flaw. I wonder today, though, if that's really true. I know on my end that any one of them could ask me to do something and I'd do it in a nanosecond. [Moral compass notwithstanding.] I wouldn't think twice about it. They're my friends.
Lousy friend that I am.
No point to this post. No gratuitous begging for confirmation from anyone that it's no problem. Just one of the random thoughts bouncing around in my head.