Reflections of a Pet Rock

October 12, 2019

A couple of weeks ago I was drawn into somewhat of a perspective-altering, late-night session of interpersonal connection and introspective nuance. What this amounted to in actuality was each of us taking turns clowning each other for our various quirks, of which there are many. But despite the (mostly) lighthearted nature of that night, I ended up walking away with a lot more to think about than I had originally brought.

For a long time it’s felt a little bit unnatural to fully open up to people outside immediate family or significant others. I won’t elaborate too deeply, but I feel like it’s some combination of not wanting to burden others with stuff I can almost always handle myself and habitually passing on conversation about the little things that happen in my day-to-day. Most people don’t share my most consuming interests, and the rest of the time I can’t be bothered to bother them.

Thinking about it now, I completely agree that there are holes in that reasoning. Functionally, it disregards the value in even just being able to get heavy stuff off your chest, or having someone to go to for a second opinion. But there’s a lot under the surface of “functional”.

Our closest friends are the sources of that which can oftentimes be found nowhere else. Of shared experiences and support amid struggle. Of sorrow and burden, but also of mirth and thoughtful advice, however wise. Of love—not passionate—but nonetheless deep. Where an ordinary friendship could come from an acquaintence you happen to chat with in class every Tuesday and Thursday, a close friendship is nurtured; forged actively and with maturing camaraderie in the face of trial and tribulation.

It’s unreasonably cliché to phrase it this way (as is most of the rest of this piece), but an intrinsic part of my personal philosophy is becoming a better person. With regard to friendship in particular, this means trying to be a better half to the people I want to hold close. This post, as a memento, is twofold.

Above all else, let it serve as a recognition of you guys. What you’ve given me is incomparable, even if I’m only starting to really understand it now. Furthermore, let it serve as a reminder to myself. When I get caught up in a silly bit or drop off for a little too long, this, and you, will ground me.

Admittedly, ruminating on this won’t make me any less of a creature of habit. Some of the ideals I’ve put to paper I may leave there for perhaps a little longer yet. But if I’ve taken anything away from writing all of this down, it’s just how lucky I am; lucky to have had close friends who’ve brought so much into my life, and lucky that they’ve stuck with me in light of my quirks and despite me taking them for granted.

If I’ve taken anything away from writing all of this down, it’s that keeping those friends close is a responsibility; a responsibility I will both readily and gratefully bear.