What makes a good friend?
Is it to be always present in times of need?
Is it to be there to celebrate good times?
Is it to share interest in the same things?
Is it to constantly remember dates?
Is it shutting up? Or speaking up?
I have asked myself countless of times of whether I am, had been, a good friend.
Am I a bad friend when I can’t be happy for a friend’s happiness? Am I a bad friend when I chose to console, to emphatize, and to feel someone elses grief caused by a friend’s happiness ? Am I a bad friend when I can’t force myself to be happy, giddy, vibrant, ecstatic?
If only we can choose which emotions to feel. If only we can break apart ourselves and kill those areas which we don’t want to acknowledge. If only yellows can be pink, and greys can be greens.
Tell me who your friends are and I’ll tell you who you are. But if I tell you some of the company I keep, you might think twice associating yourself with me.
One friend caused me my first visit to prison.How I forced myself to put up a brave face when in the back of my mind I was so scared of what’s gonna happen to him. Of how a simple “no”, lit up his face when he asked me if i believe the charges raised against him. And how words escaped me when for the first time in our friendship, he asked me to pray for him. Him behind bars, and me on the other side with his mom and sister beside me. And then one by one, his cell mates went nearer and joined in. Just silently bowing their heads.
Another friend was so suicidal that she called me just before she crashed her car to a post. Thank God cause she survived it.
Another is so into drugs, but during his sober moments we would talk and he would want to change, and stop the vice. But just a few weeks or months later, he would be off again to God knows where, doing God knows what. It pains your heart to see this situation, but as a person, you can only do so much. Then that person to tell you that those small talks you share with each other means a lot cause he feels that the world is too busy to have small talks with him.
When one time a mom asked me if I could be her daughter’s bestfriend. Her daughter would call me “ate dee”, and I just love her to pieces. She was 17 and I was 20 when we first met. She was strutting in the catwalk of Cebu and sometimes Manila. Next to her I would look like a maid. She was all grace and pin-up smile. While I was plain ol’ tee , jeans, slippers and ever reliable sling bag. But behind the spotlight, she was just my sweet C. She was just 17, and she doesn’t know how to read and write. I have to excuse myself and cry where she can’t see me, when I learned of this. Not because I pity her, but because I feel that it’s just not fair. She knows the basic and yet a grade school undergrad knows more. From then on, she would visit me at UP during my breaks in between classes. And I would teach her how to read and how to write. More and more. Slowly. One of my treasured possession is card and a box of Dunkin Donuts. And in the card she wrote down how much she love me and appreciate me. And in her childlike handwriting and simple words, I learned another lesson at friendship.
When I was just 9 years old, I cried in front of the teacher to ask her not to expell one of my classmates who was such a trouble maker. I also went, together with two other friends, to a friend’s house and asked her parents not to separate cause that would make her sad, and she would have to move to another place and that would make us sad. I was still too young then to understand the problems that grown-ups have to deal with. For me then, the way from point A to point B is just one straight line, and the the points in between don’t exist.
Once I also let a friend stay in our house to protect her from her abusive step father who molested her.
Another friend ran away from home, and i called her mom behind her back just so she won’t worry.
The oldest friendship i keep is with Bryan. Our friendship is as old as us. We are proud to call each other friends since birth. We dream dreams together. We pray for each other. Through heartbreaks and new loves. One person who I won’t think twice to give a knife to, knowing he won’t use it against me. Who conspired with J, on one of my birthdays, to surprise me with fireworks. And now that I’ve practically named him, I won’t dare share the secrets that he has entrusted me… if i’ll tell you, i’d have to kill you. *insert evil laugh* 
He’s steps away from his dreams now. And I am just so proud of him. His life would soon be in Maalaala mo Kaya. He already talked with the staff in Manila, and all I’m worried about is who will play my character.
I take pride when a friend made it big. Even small achievements we celebrate it over dinner, or coffee, or some drinks. There is always a reason to celebrate when you’re in the company of good friends.
When a friend got a new love, I would beg her/him to share every detail. I get excited and would want to meet the guy/girl. Sometimes I play cupid, and match make friends from different circles.
I’ve develop friendship with the special kids when an artist friend asked me to join her when she organized an Art workshop for them. Of how 5 words can express so much sincerity, “I love you teacher dian“. I’m no teacher, it was them who taught me what really matters in life.
Friends where years of silence separates you, and yet the moment you bridge the communication, it seems like nothing has passed.
These are just some of the pillars that I surround myself with. I am not sharing this to gloat, but to think of, to remember during moments like this when I question my capacity to be a good friend.
I don’t choose my friends, or put qualifications. if my friends have checklist of their own, I’ll probably flunk.
I consider myself blessed, because I have been given the honor of knowing, loving and being loved by them. Perhaps somewhere in my sometimes messed up life, I did something good and they are my prize.
What does it take to be a good friend? Or to simply put what I feel concerning a certain friendship, if I can’t be happy for your happiness, does that make me a bad person?
i don’t know if this makes sense… I love you and I want you to be happy, but (for now) I am not sure if I’m happy for you.
Can somebody please tell me they understand me?
