“There are no friends.”
This is what my father would tell me as a kid. I had trouble accepting it, but he insisted on it throughout my entire childhood. I have to assume he was telling me this to protect me, right?
I learned that life is a long road trip. We need friends to ride shotgun and even drive the damn thing sometimes. It’s no fun wondering if they’re going to drive you off the road because you don’t trust them.
Over the years, some did jump out and take their own path. I waved goodbye as they drove off.
But I never had anyone betray me or do anything shady. Looking back, I think I did a pretty good job at filtering those that made it into my inner circle.
Some friendships did end, but they just ran their course. The cheesy quote always comes to mind:
Friends come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.
I had a hard time letting go of some old friends because I assumed they were all for a lifetime. Those did hurt.
I wonder who hurt my father. What are those untold stories that gave his statement justification? Who turned their back on him or betrayed him? Who drove them off the road?
What if I just ask him? My dad loves to talk to me now, so I may actually get a solid answer.