I’m having a back and forth email chat with my old friend Nic, whom I’ve known since I was 16. We do this periodically, take a topic and run with it.
Today’s conversation is a reflection on friendships: Who stayed. Who bailed. Who got kicked out. Who drifted.
Nic is close but not my oldest friend. I’ve my Core 5 whom I’ve known before Nic. Even longer, JB and I have known each other since we were 2, and we touch base maybe three or four times a week. And there’s slew of family friends from my primary days in England whom I regularly ping.
The fact that I’ve know Nic since we 16 makes him a member of my ‘Old’ Friend Club. In that circle are individuals I consider to be the finest people walking this world. Talented, smart, witty, bright: They have my heart for sure, but by these traits they also have my ears. So I listen when they talk.
Nic is no exception. Today we are exploring what it means to be a friend, then and now, and the microscope is on me.
What’s interesting about our correspondence this afternoon is that, through examination it turns out, with the exception of EWayne, Stacy, Sky and Greta … the relationships I’ve established after the age of 24 have had an average shelf life of seven years, if that.
Nic has a similar story. Seven years.
Apparently I have an MO when it comes to ‘new’ friendships. I find that fascinating. I hadn’t ever thought about it before. In my world, people just breeze in and breeze out. Some naturally. Some by way of agendas. Some with pain. Some with a closed door. Others simply ran their course.
No roots. No staying power. Zero loyalty on either side to keep them sticking.
I wonder if that’s healthy?
At this moment I am not sure,. But I will admit this: In a strange way knowing this takes the pressure off of leaving people in the acquaintance column.