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.

This was not what I meant to talk about tonight.

There are too many…frustrating people to deal with lately. So many things piss me off, manifested in so many different ways through different personalities. I’ve never really liked people in general, which has usually made it hard for me to make friends, although this has caused any actual friendships to be rather solid. I’m starting to believe that “hate” isn’t too strong a word. Even though I feel like I’ve been able to come a long way in my tolerance of others and of the human race in general, there are still times when I feel like putting an axe through someone’s head.

Everywhere I go in everything I do, I run into at least one person I can’t stand. I can’t begin to explain myself, because every time I try I get flustered. Even at the table tennis club, when all I want to do is forget everything and focus on a single goal, I run into annoying, cocky, social rejects. Even when I simply try to relax and hang out with my friends, there are people there who just seem created to rub me the wrong way.

It’s all made me appreciate the friendships I do have. Even when I think of all the vexing situations people put me in, I feel I have little to complain about. My closest friends completely make up for the fucking idiots I have to deal with all the time.

Sometimes, that’s just hard to keep in mind.

I’ve been back for two days, and I’m still busy. I haven’t played a game of WC3 in over a week and a half. I think people would generally be worried about me if I told them this without letting them know that I didn’t have access to a decent computer. I can honestly say that the last two weeks have been the best trip home I’ve ever had.

I’ll never forget driving to the park to blaze with Darren and Chris or Jeff or Jerry. The park was always abandoned at that time of night, surrounded by a field on one side, and a row of middle-class houses on the other. I always suspected that the people eating dinner with their blinds open knew that we were doing something illicit when sparks would light up our faces in the blackness of the field. Standing in the middle of the playground, with its sand-covered tables or dual-sided slide contraptions, made me feel comfortably at peace. The area was devoid of traffic (and hence noise) and there was no light pollution to dilute the glamour of the glittering sky.

Afterwards, getting hungry, we would drive to the McDonalds drive-through (since the regular joint was closed at that time of night), and order an inordinate amount of food. Eating would always consist of parking in a nearby lot, lit from long lamps that seemed to want to touch the sky, and rolling down the Civic’s windows. The wide, open space of the parking lot would rarely see anyone drive through, and we were left eating comfortably in silence (albeit with the hum of the A/C in the background), when food never tasted so good.

We would hit the closest Timmies afterwards, needing coffee and somehow more food. The place was always empty, and from two to four in the morning we were the only customers, getting two large teas and two cheese strudels please. I wondered how much money could have been made by staying open 24 hours a day, paying the two employees working the night shift while seeing us as the only customers, purchasing food but staying well over the courtesy limit. I’ll never forget how brightly lit the place was, with it’s lugubrious employee seemingly mopping the floor for an eternity while Chris and Darren chatted endlessly about the more humourous aspects of their friends facial features. I would look out the window and see cars pass by on the main road every so often, wondering how I’ve missed such a good time my whole life.

Time spent with John was just as good. We watched Elizabeth (Geoffrey Rush and Fanny Ardent had the best parts), The Transporter (terrible), The Good Thief (very good), Jackass Movie (just as good the second time), and Better Luck Tomorrow (very enjoyable). We bought Timesplitters 2 for his PS2 and played quite a bit of co-operative campaign and switched to deathmatch when we felt the need to match testosterone.

He would give me a ride home every night which ended up taking about an hour due to the DVP being closed for construction. We rode along the dark city streets, listening to Air Supply and talked about anything from implanted human desires to how fucked up our relationships have been to our future plans.

I realized that, as good a time as I was having at home, I still wouldn’t move back there. I’m comfortable here, and I’m able to much better appreciate the time I spend with my friends or family if it’s not too often. I have something to look forward to.

Something that is rare.

I’ve been talking with Pat and Aaron over the last few days, and we seem to be able to help each other out when we need it. Sometimes writing about it isn’t good enough. Generally, that’s when a second opinion is needed, or one is afraid of being blinded by emotion.

I think it’s a great privilege that I’m able to have such a good friendship with John, Pat, and Aaron, each relationship being very distinct from the other.

With John, I share a bond of independence and solitude. Ironic that our friendship is based on such antisocial attitudes. It’s our intellect and mindset that allows us to relate. Although venting to him is difficult, we have a comfort level that allows anything to be said, and nothing to be misinterpreted. Something which I suppose developed greatly over the large amount of time we have known each other.

Pat is a friend without even trying to be one. It is in his nature to be friendly, and it shows in his actions and attitude. I’m sure that I am not an important person to Pat, because he treats everyone equally, as he wants to be treated. For Pat, everyone seems important, and he has every aspect that I look for in a friend, without asking for as much as an ear to listen to. He ends up treating one better than one could ever possibly treat him, and he’s always helped me regain my balance.

My friendship with Aaron has been an interesting event. Never have I related more to someone. Yet we have such different attitudes and different experiences. I see myself in him. It seems so odd that I’ve been able to meet someone with so many similarities that I’m able to sense a bond. It makes me question the idea of fate and intervention, something which I thought I had a set understanding of until recently.

I think that I’ll always wonder what I’ve done to deserve the company and friendship of such good and unique people, except for John I suppose, since he’s inherently evil. I feel like a monster next to them, with all my vices and problems.

I remember crying once a long time ago because I was nobody’s best friend. The idea made me cringe and feel worthless, because I believed that I wasn’t important to anyone. I suppose the situation hasn’t changed much; I still feel as worthless as ever.

Except my friends can now make me feel great.

John stayed over last week-end and we had a great time. It was good to be able to simply be totally relaxed around someone, instead of being cautious, as is the case with even the closest of friends. It was enjoyable to have someone I can be completely open with.

I think it’s a rare bond that he and I share. I often believed that I would never be able to have someone know everything about me. The idea scares me, makes me cringe. Yet in this weekend, we were able to understand each other in such subtle ways that no explanation was needed for many subjects. I realize that John knows everything about me. He has such a history with me that I can feel comfortable with such an idea. He’s the only person who has met every one of my girlfriends.

One of my favorite conversations was about the way he manifests his support of the FTA by stealing (also delectable) lemon mints with the words “Down with the FTA!” printed on the wrapper. Another memorable one that comes to mind was concerning our dads mid-life crises. When he found out that a Boxter was part of mine, he told me that his only did something as benign as getting re-married. I couldn’t stop laughing when he said it, because it spoke of such a quirky understanding I have of his father. Yet it also so discretely tells of the value of his relationships, another things which I’ve come to understand in him.

I believe the appeal of these conversations is the way in which we can communicate. Most of my friends are people whom I can have a good time with, instead of being able to relate intellectually with. My relationship with John allows for both, and I always feel refreshed when I’m finished talking with him.

I can only hope that the effect is mutual.