I wish writing this would make me feel a little better.

Having new friends is good. But not having been able to keep the old ones is, I don’t know, how do I even put it? Unacceptable. Perhaps.

I could not even count and name all the friends I had for the whole twenty years of my life. You can tell, I had plenty of them. But how many among them have I been keeping in touch with? If keeping in touch is exchanging a few text messages once in a couple of weeks, or not forgetting to send birthday greetings on Friendster, then I guess I am keeping in touch. But if it means taking a minute to call and check how they are doing every once in a while, or if it means having to actually free myself to run to their places and personally greet them on their birthdays, then go ahead and curse me. I think I am keeping in touch with nobody. I guess that makes me the least perfect friend, not even a good friend. Give me something not worse than a bad friend, but less than a good friend. I fall somewhere in between that. If you probably ask one of my good old friends on how much of a friend I am, she would probably tell you, ‘sakto lang’. God, ‘sakto lang’ is never good, right? It feels so awful but it’s no one else’s fault, just mine.

A friend of mine is currently going through one of the worsts you could imagine. I didn’t know about it until recently. The thing is, she wasn’t the one who told me and I am not allowed to tell my friend or anyone else that I know something. It’s sad because she is a great friend to me, she is actually one of my best friends and she’s not telling me anything. But the sadder part is, I could not be there for her, help her carry her luggage.

I tried several times to get her to talk to me about what she’s going through, but she said nothing. She pretended to be okay. It hurts because I know that I would understand, and I would support her no matter what, and she could hang on to me all the way. But it hurts more that, through the years, it didn’t seem like I would. Because I stopped being a good friend when we reached the end of something and the start of another thing. We parted ways. I could have left her the assurance that the sudden change would not alter our friendship; that our bodies may have gone so far away from each other but my presence would always be felt. I could have. But I didn’t.

Everyday, I think about her. Everyday, I think about how I could have made her feel much better. If only I kept in touch. If only I bothered to check on her. If only I have been a good friend, the best friend that I used to be.

I don’t want to make the same mistake again. I have such great friends and I want to be as great as they already are. I want to be someone they can run to, someone they will call first. Not only through lucky and happy times, but also when the going gets tough.

As to my friend, I wish the ‘better late then never’ applies. To rescuing our friendship. To my being there for you. Just please let me be a friend to you this time. Let me be there for you.