Trolley left his Tuborg in my room tonight, but I purposely didn’t tell him so that I could have a chance to talk with him when he remembered where it was.

Many a one cannot deliver himself from his own chains and yet he is his friend’s deliverer.

—Of The Friend, Thus Spoke Zarathustra

What is it about ones own problems that can be so difficult to overcome? What blinds someone so much that they can’t help themselves? Why is it only our friends that can bring us out of the worst situations?

I’ve come to realize that I fucking HATE crying in front of almost anyone. Pat, Aaron, John are the only people I’m comfortable crying in front of. I’m comfortable around them enough that I don’t have to worry about boring them, or feeling weak, or thinking that my problems are petty. All they care about is the state-of-mind of a friend in distress, and nothing else. I can relax, be myself, concentrate on my problems, instead of fretting over how worried I might be making them, something I find extremely difficult to do.

I remember once, Trolley was having coding problems at work that was causing him to stay late and go in on weekends. I explained the situation to Aaron, and we both agreed that we wanted to show up at his work and help him out. Unforutantely, it was eventually decided that we would hinder more than help, due to our inexperience with the software, and the fact that learning the necessary code would take longer than the time we could save.

Even though Aaron and I could do nothing to help, I remember feeling good about the zeal with which we sought solutions. Not only taking great pleasure in the fact that I could do something to help a friend out, but the fact that it came so easily. That my first reaction was to drop everything, and sharing the exact same sentiment with Aaron.

Knowing I have friends who are willing to do the same for me is what makes me stoic. Knowing that I have people I can relax around when I’m crying, sobbing, at my most vulnerable, is what keeps me sane. Knowing that I have people who would put me before themselves when necessary, while not having to worry about them at the same time, is what makes me stronger. Knowing that I have people I can trust enough to depend on, is what gives me courage. Knowing that I have people to fall back on is what keeps me from falling in the first place.

And perhaps this is why I couldn’t do this alone.

If wine were a liquor, it would taste like sake. The statement doesn’t really make sense until one actually tries a cup of the warm liquid, and I have to admit, I didn’t believe Louise when she first said it.

Pat, Aaron, Trolley, and I, along with the respective girls/girlfriends, Jen, Karen, Andrea, and Loo, went to the Japanese Village for some celebratory teppanyaki. Pat found a new full-time development job, Trolley went from contract to full-time, and Aaron got an eight-month quality assurance contract, all within the same month. Everyone managed to make it out on the same night, which is not an easy task among the eight in attendance.

The last time we met together like this was when I first got my job at the beginning of spring, when we went to a little restaurant in Chinatown to celebrate, sort of like the meeting of the heads of the four territories in Infernal Affairs 2. It was important that my three closest friends in the city could make it last time, and this time, it just so happened that each one of them got new jobs.

Every main meal comes in six to seven courses with mushroom soup, salad (consumed using chopsticks), shrimp appetizers, mixed vegetables, rice, and sprouts. I got the filet mignon, which is unlike anything I’ve ever tasted; tender enough to stick through with a chopstick, but firm enough not to fall off. It’s so good, that I may sacrifice the excitement of trying something new the next time I go, for the savoury taste of their best cut beef.

Something that I desperately want to do again, but difficult enough to accomplish with everyone there, to make me appreciate the time when it comes.

This is what summer is about: nowhere to go and all the time in the world to get there. Nothing beats cruising through the city with a friend and his iPod in an air-conditioned, manual Jetta.

I don’t know why I didn’t figure this out before, but I guess the good thing is that I know better now. Maybe it was all too simple to see.

Friendship is all or nothing. Friends are the all, the ones I’d give my life for, the ones that I unconditionally accept. Non-friends are the nothing, the ones I couldn’t care less about. The ones that don’t fit in either category, due to insufficient information to make such a decision, are acquaintances (and some remain acquaintances forever).

Unconditional acceptance is the toughest part of friendship, because it’s the biggest commitment. It’s the biggest reason that I consider such few people to be my friends. It’s so easy to walk away when people change, when people grow apart. It’s not so easy to accept and understand, especially for someone as selfish and with as little tolerance as me. A friend is a friend for life.

I love you, Aaron.

I love you, Darren.

I love you, John.

I love you, Pat.