Saturday, June 03, 2006

Just Empty Talk.

I appeared in the newspapers!!! Check it out!!! It's expected though, since I have been attending press previews and events, so it came as no surprise that a friend flipped through the papers one day, and saw me staring right back at her.


When I was in Secondary School, there was once when my best friend stopped speaking to me altogether one day. Another friend quietly told me that she was mad at me, because she hated always being the one who initiated contact with me. It was as though I didn't care enough about our friendship to dial the then-7 digit number and say, "Hi." She hated always being the one who worked towards making our friendship a constant. Of course, all that weren't true, it wasn't because I didn't care enough to pick up the phone. I just didn't, for some reason or another.


Ever since I started working, I realized that in a circle of friends, there has to be that one person who bothers to pick up the phone and arrange a gathering or something. Otherwise, another day just passes. And, before, you know it, it's been a month. Two months. A year. I'm sorry, did you said you were married??? With kids?!!


I also realized that I'm always the person to initiate contact. When I called up a friend whom I hadn't spoken to for two months, she chided me for not calling earlier, and said that I didn't care about her enough to do so. "What about you?" I asked. She was speechless.


We always think "Why should we be the one who do it, why doesn't the other party do something first?" It's always, "Why didn't you keep in touch?" but never, "Why didn't I keep in touch?"


If a boyfriend is in the equation, then the friendship then becomes one tough equation, that simple algebra wouldn't solve. Especially if you've never fallen out of love before, or you've never been betrayed, you wouldn't know the true essence of friendship.


I'm talking crap. Please ignore me. This entry is dedicated to all my poly friends. We should meet up one day instead of just talking about it.

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