I’ve had a lot of them, ‘friends’. They’ve come and gone like fashion except they don’t get recycled. Or do they ?
I like to imagine I’ve seen them all, calm and crazy, I like to think I can be friends with just any kind of person. This concerns me sometimes, maybe it means I’m too flexible, too compromising not having very strong convictions… I’ve been told otherwise though… hell, I’ve been called cold, dogmatic, unfeeling, proud un-compassionate…lol Abada-Agu would a have good laugh remembering this one. One thing all this names had in common though; people who didn’t get their way. Let’s not bother with those ones, we’ll save them for environmental sanitation day. Damn, I digress.
So about my friends, I barely remember the faces on some of them now, names even, but I don’t forget the events, the thrills, the escapades, the words, the betrayals, the stories, the loyalties, the secreets, they link up to emotions
I remember the way each person, each event made me feel.
I never forget. EVER.