That would be me. I am, dear reader, a bad friend. I am flaky, I cancel plans, which must be extremely annoying for any of my friends because getting me to commit to any in the first place is like pulling teeth.
So it surprises me that people still want to be friends with me. That they seem to like me.
I have this one friend that I’ve known for about 13 years now. She’s quite a bit younger than me, but we still get on very well. She has stood by me through a lot of my very bad behaviour, and knows things about me that I would really prefer that people didn’t. Yet she’s still there. I’m not sure why she hasn’t ditched me years ago. But she still keeps calling me, wanting to catch up, wanting to hear my news. And trust me – she is the one who is doing most of the work. If it was left to me we probably would never see each other.
We have been trying to set up a coffee date for a couple of months now. Admittedly, I have had a lot of stuff on, with work and the kids and whatnot, so it hasn’t quite worked out. I’ve finally committed to going to see her new flat this Sunday for afternoon tea. I don’t know why I’ve been avoiding this get-together: I’m afraid of boring her; I worry she only wants to catch up because she feels sorry/pity for me; some other bizarre reason.
But now, at least, I’m going.
This week I was also invited to a party at a friend’s house next month. I was a little surprised, because she’s part of a group that I met while with my own Bad Friend (who I may or may not have mentioned before on this blog – she’s one of those soul-sucking, high-maintenance types and I am currently avoiding her), and previously I’ve only ever been invited to events in the company of Bad Friend, so I’ve always assumed that I was kind of Bad Friend’s hanger-on, and that Bad Friend was the real invitee. However, Bad Friend wasn’t invited to this particular soiree, so I probably will even go, since I know a few people who will be attending.
I don’t know why I always assume that people aren’t all that fussed about me, because the evidence in my life indicates that this is not the case. But I tend to use the excuse that they probably would prefer *not* to see me, or that they would rather be doing something else than hang out with me. Which, of course, makes it easier to cancel plans that we’ve made. I can feel less guilty that way.
And that is why I am a bad friend.