Assorted Ramblings of a Different Young Adult by Santtu Pesonen - HTML preview

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12-05-2016: Friend or Acquaintance?


I like to think that I don’t take myself too seriously. I can laugh at myself, and I do indeed laugh at myself on occasion. But then, there are things in my past that I don’t so much laugh at as I wish they hadn’t happened.


I don’t usually reminisce on my earlier school years, and I have a good reason not to. That reason has to do with bullying. I hated every minute that I was anywhere else than the relative safety of the classroom. I never made many friends, and the few that I did manage to make, despite whatever they might have said back then, didn’t make the slightest move to help me in any way.


In time, I learned to stand up for myself. The nine years that I struggled through elementary, hanging on by a thread, were the best teachers I ever had. In a way, I’m thankful to my bullies for pushing me to become as strong as I have. Their wrong-doings helped me reinforce my walls.


Now that I’ve made my way into university, I’m happy to see that everyone acts their age. Of course, that’s only a first impression, but those are what matter, aren’t they?


While I’ve made acquaintances with many of my peers in university, however, the friends I’ve made are about as scarce in number as previously. But I honestly don’t mind that. To me, quality is what matters anyway, not quantity.


It takes a lot for me to really consider someone a friend. A common interest or seeing them on a regular basis isn’t enough. It takes more than that. They need to be able to listen to my concerns. They need to dare to voice their own concerns to me. Most importantly, they need to
know me.


There is one such person in my life, and I’ve known him for the past six years. With him, I’ve shared some of the most memorable moments of my life. I’ve shared many laughs with him. I’ve shared many concerns with him. And as long as that continues, I’ll be content to have at least one true friend.


Strangely enough, though, I keep wishing I had more friends. Not mere acquaintances, but genuine friends. But the thing about it is that I don’t bond that deeply with just about anyone. I’m pretty selective when it comes to establishing friendships. That’s probably the reason I don’t have more friends than I do.


At the very least, I have one true friend who’ll listen to my concerns. One true friend who isn’t afraid to voice his own concerns to me. One true friend who knows me inside out. And that’s enough.