My first secondary school friendship was an unconventional ordeal. It was not thought over or natural perse. It was artificial like a robot or toy, a complicated thing you try to simplify; to play with on your own. A fake shameful fiasco. I am trying to emphasize all this to show its gravity, bear with my pessimism.
It was the first day of form one and I was seated in a strange class full of unfamiliar faces filled with grimaces and sneers. The teacher was at the front of the class speaking with an eerie. I was not really listening since I was too preoccupied anticipating the rest of the day in this new environment. Someone knocked at the classroom door and he teacher motioned for the intruder to come in. A tall, light skinned boy entered.
He looked shy but also unsure of what was happening. He walked slowly towards the teacher and greeted her softly. The teacher greeted back with a smile and pointed him to a seat. A seat that was in front of mine. The boy walked from the front of the class to the seat and sat there.
The boy's name was Abram Silas. The first friend I made in secondary school. The shock is that I did not take time to proclaim him as my best friend. It was all too fast now that I recollect. At that time, I guess I thought when you assume something about a situation such as two people being close then it just happens naturally. I befriended him and quickly made the conclusions that he was my closest friend and I was his closest friend not because I knew him well or he knew me well, on the contrary but because he looked interesting to know about.
I thought it would be nice if he became my friend. It did not involve me anymore. It became my story in his story...I do not think you understand.
I belittled myself to fit in his life. I worked so hard to make him accept me. To make him understand that we were perhaps of the same level because believe it or not I have always thought I was loser compared to other people. I did not become his friend because I saw potential of my growth in him but because I saw an eloquent person I wanted to know. Someone that I would be honoured to be friends with. He was smart and sociable so the whole class was smitten. It was not just me...the entire class. In the end nothing worked out. We became friends but I was trying so hard; faking my interests to be similar with his or his other friends. I deliberately changed my opinions about certain things so that they can match with his. In the end he still failed to take me seriously so we just grew apart. None of this was his fault. It was not mine either ( yes it was not, shut up!) I was young to really understand what I needed in a friend.
Today, I have a thing I believe in called true friendship. It is a thing because whenever I talk about it my brother sighs and shakes his head as if I am being sensitive when it is not required of me.
As I got older, I started asking myself various questions while answering each of them on my own. I started thinking of a friend. A person I can be myself with. A person I do not have to try with; where my opinions are constant and my interests are consistent even if they are different. A person that seems interested in listening to me everyday. A person who inspires me to become a better person and who does not neglect me.
A friend makes you happy and happiness is one of the pillars that smoothens the achievements of our goals. Good energy just makes you productive, don't you think? A friend is the best critic you will ever find. A friend is the greatest sponsor to your projects and audience to your talent shows. I believe that people with good friends are the architects to society. Is this really my thing only?
Am I too sensitive to think this? Is friendship a light matter? I do not know and I will not fool myself and think that all this will minimise itself if I stop worrying about it. I have heard so many people talk about fake relationships, fake friendships. They complain about pessimistic friends and negative support around them from people they know and trust. It is this same people that take this matter so lightly.
I bet if my father got a hand of this diary he would be so disappointed at all the things I affirm of which he does not. I wonder what he will say about complicating this idea of friends. He will sneer and smirk at the thought of a friendship bond.
" There is absolutely no need to ponder on such a silly matter!" He would say.
YOU ARE READING
THE DIARY
Short StoryAmon feels left out at school and at home. He feels like everything he stands for is against what he is supposed to be by society. In his secret diary he writes about what he feels, what he thinks and what he wants.
