Oftentimes I wonder what it means to be a friend. Is it talking daily? Sharing details of our lives that nobody else would know? Or is it things that parents would disown us for? Or being there for one another? I don’t know where to start ranting about the so-called ‘friends’ I’ve made. I wouldn’t name names but I know who they are. I try not to hold it against them but I can’t help but wonder if I’m just another face in the crowd for them, another person to lean on when needed and forget when another serves the purpose. What is it that makes you claim that a friend is truly one? I have yet to find an answer to this. But based on experience with the five I know, I can conclude it’s about being there when needed. It’s not about blind support for another – it’s about holding a meaningful discussion – even if your best friend is an atheist or Satanist and you’re a religious nut. It doesn’t matter who we are or how polarised our thoughts. We look out for each other all the time. and I think sometimes that’s all that matters.