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Daily, Random, Reflection, Writing

Far from a dictionary friend




1. a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard.
2. a person who gives assistance; patron; supporter: friends of the Boston Symphony.
3. a person who is on good terms with another; a person who is not hostile: Who goes there? Friend or foe?
4. a member of the same nation, party, etc.
5. (initial capital lettera member of the Religious Society of Friends; a Quaker.

–verb (used with object)

6. Rareto befriend.


It took me a long time to decipher the difference between friends and acquaintaces. I still have trouble with that, sometimes, if I’m being honest. There are times when I hold people in much higher regard than they hold me. I’m okay with that, I suppose, since there’s not much I can do about it.
However, while I’ve learned to recognize and deal with my shortcomings socially, I despise being looked down on.
Laughed at.
Taken advantage of.
I am obviously not paying attention to grammar.


What I’m saying is, while I realize not everyone is my friendship soulmate, I do expect sincerity from people.  I’m disappointed when I don’t get it. Or when I get a version I totally believe that then turns out to be false. It scars me. And I’m not saying come entertain me, buy me drinks, remember my birthday, let’s go out to dinner….whatever. Those things are nice, but I could go to dinner with a monkey. 


What I’m saying is be who you are and don’t wear masks. No one enjoys that. No one enjoys a false person, whether they’re seventeen or seventy-three. I can’t abide investing faith in someone and then being made into a fool. That’s not okay, and you don’t get to go on like nothing happened.  To expect to get off without being called out is like saying, “You’re not important enough that you would merit consequences, so it doesn’t matter that I did this to you.” And to be quite blunt about it, that’s just not true. Whether in your backhanded visciousness you have hurt me or someone I love, it’s still something that matters. We matter and you aren’t above reproach. Have you become so self important that you just don’t see?


Here, let me serve as your eyes.
We are here. 
We matter.
We never hurt you.
You are in the wrong.
That felt good.

About emylibef

I'm a wife, a mother, and many other things. I have blogged my life for over six years now, and this blog is the culmination of several blogs. In other words, I'm trying to get it all together. Bear with me.


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