Case number one is Mark, a classmate of mine. He’s currently the top student in the whole batch. He’s smart (of course), I guessed he’s also physically fit, and he’s an extrovert. He’s a boy who my father wished of me: someone having favourable intelligence, physical, and social quotient. Every time I see him greet every girl and just directly high five on them, I just feel that he just makes it too easy. And every time he talks to boys (whom I’m not close with), it just makes me feel sorry for myself for not letting me make friends out of them. He’s sociable to both genders, even to those having two genders- you know what I mean?
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I was in my seat. I stared my left and my seatmate fell down. He was plump, so he falling down was an unlikely sighting. I guessed my classmate, Mark (another Mark), pushed him down from his chair. But though he was just thrust down to the wooden desk chairs, he still kept that happy face. Meaning, it was just a joke. But something’s telling me that behind that smile was a desire for revenge. But they were friends. While he just smiled, Mark was laughing sadistically. Not the best scene I would like to see.
Case number two is another Mark in the classroom. He’s very famous in our batch. Not because of that he is outgoing, but because of his loud attitude. He’s every true boy in our batch’s friend. Well not really a completely, true friend. He wasn’t someone you can trust and confess your problems with. I found him very aggressive towards his friends. Well he’s a teenage thug who happens to be famous, what do you expect from him? He’s not a bully though, just acting like one. But despite all of those bad things I am thinking of him, honestly, if I had time before, I would have made him a friend. Weird? I know.
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“Luna, Luna, Luna!” some junior student excessively repeated my classmate’s name. Luna stared back and she saw him. Luna went near him, and there they had some conversation I couldn’t hear. I guess it was a happy conversation- they laughed and smiled as if it there was a pattern. After the conversation, some group of boys came to them, the junior student seemed to be acquainting Luna to the group- but I’m not sure. Then the bell rang, and I ran to my class.
Case number three is Luna. I really don’t find someone that very much close for the third case, but she was the closest to what I think. She used to be someone I admired. But things don’t go well if bad things happen (it’s a tragic event I wouldn’t like to remember). She’s pretty I guess. She had gained plenty of friends by being the school muse. And she gained a lot of boy friends by being the football captain’s girlfriend. She was beautiful, but I knew she wasn’t using it to be someone popular- well I hope so.
What does it takes to have at least scarce amount of friends? Being outgoing like Mark, being loud like the other Mark, or being someone attractive like Luna. I never really knew the answer. But somehow, even without those three, I gained friends. And how I get them was so random. So random that I barely know a fragment of a memory to how it happened. It was as if at the next day, I had friends, and by the next, I realized I had none. Well fortunately, up until now, I still do think that I have friends.
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At some times when my father and I are alone, my father has a somewhat of mannerism to preach me. Well not that I’m an obnoxious son avoiding sermons. It’s just that they get over-redundant. It is too much! The words doesn’t change, the feelings of the ejaculation of the words doesn’t changes- still somewhat sweet and trying to persuade desperately, and most importantly, the topic doesn’t changes. That’s what had kept me uninterested for the whole five minutes of those repeated sermons.
To be frank, each of one has done it. Even you wise, old men reading this, you had felt that when you were younger. I know it’s immoral, but it’s turning of more of a reflex action for humans these days.
Have you guessed by now what my father’s topic was always? It’s in the title: A Lack of Socialization. Since the day after my father talked to me about my social skills while eating in a restaurant, I had always been cautious of him saying it.
“Sure you have IQ, but you lack in social quotient. You’re shy, you have few friends, and you don’t join school activities,” those I think were the words. Well not really that exact, it was somehow of a summary; it was quite long.
First of all, I am not that shy, only a bit. Sure I really don’t have that much friends (reason? later), but I’m not that very shy. Second, I join some school activities in contests and even talk to random classmates if necessary. But though I said that to my father, it’s as if he never heard a word because he still keeps on preaching me the same thing, though I think I made progressions, I think he would never stop on preaching me. I want to protest every time he says that I lack in social skills. Inside me were words and feelings so close to hitting the outburst. I want to comment, I want to complain of the truth. But, I wasn’t the brave and the bold. I was rather the coward.
I know parents always preach the same thing. And that’s for us to not forget it. But in this case, it’s not about hygiene, household chores, etcetera. It was about making friends; something I or everyone will never forget. It was as if he’s reminding me to breathe.
But I appreciate my father. The reason he keeps on saying it is because I have few friends. But I have had different principles and beliefs which had limited my friends. For me, someone who is just part of the ‘anyone’ you know can’t be your friend. Simply, not everyone you know can be your friend. You can’t be friend with a bully you hate, a guy you’re jealous at, a random classmate, etcetera. What if you picked the wrong guy to be your friend? Then, you’ll suffer with false friendship you don’t desire. Investigate before you participate. There’s a saying that that agony is always in the end. And it is; a pure fact as I had witnessed.
Years ago, back at my fifth grade. I used to have three of these friends: a chubby and semi-bully-to-others girl, a shy but obnoxious guy, and a tiny gay guy who excessively annoys me. See, if you pick the wrong guys to be your friend, you’ll suffer. And by just reading their attitudes, you already know that I suffered. Since fifth grade, I wished for elementary graduation to just come so fast like it would be tomorrow. Because, though I was one of the smartest in class and gets praises, I was like in hell if it comes to my friends!
It’s my entire fault anyway. At the last week of my fourth grade, when my teacher once asked me who my ‘best’ friends were, I said the three of them. Probably that triggered them to get so over-confident over me. I was a shy, easily-bullied, tolerant guy. That’s why I was so much of a hotspot for bullies. But I never knew my bullies would be my friends! At the start of fifth grade, they just seemed to underestimate me. They mocked me get and insolently takes advantage over me. But I couldn’t help myself. They were still my friends no matter what I do in earth. And by that day forward, my whole attitude changed for high school. Those three guys were the reason why I didn’t go to the luxurious college where they enrolled for high school. Those three guys were the reason why I limit friendships. Those three guys were the reason that lead me to write this. Back at fourth grade, I thought they were my friends. And when I woke up at the middle of my fifth grade, I realized that they were not. Overall, elementary friends, not the best.
As high school came, it was a fresh prelude. Everything went well for me. I had friends, but friends which I limited- I still felt contended though. For now, anyone who gets close to me, she/ he is still only my friend. There’s no such thing as best friend for me. As if for me, there’s some boundary between friends and space to nothingness which always successfully limits me always in terms of friends.
Once, I stated, “Your friends are the people with the most guts to annoy you without getting that bad conscience.” Well for me, my friends were, especially in elementary. It went that way for me; it was harsh, unsympathetic, and unforgettable. But it may not be for you. For those who are reading this, and for those who didn’t suffer the same; you are lucky to have true friends. Damn, I cursed the years I had those three friends. Well at least I’m in high school now, and I have new friends.
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It was a cold night while the rain was heavy. I stared the window as I followed the raindrops in the window witch my index finger. Then, my father approached me slowly, with a smile and his mouth ready for your know what. He sat with me as I turned my eyes to him, then he started to preach me slowly. And again like the usual, gusts of words made my ear ache; words which I unenthusiastically listened to, words which would have made me vomit if it was food- how disrespectful of me, I know. And at last when he was through, I finally knew what to do. Though with anxiety and as my heart skipped fast, I told my reaon- and at last I felt the brave and the bold. I smiled at him while he kept still. Not frowning nor smiling. His eyes stared at me. I gulped.
He stood, “Well...Good night Jerry,” he smiled and he went to his room. When he shut the door close, thunder noised. I was alone, it was cold, and still I couldn’t believe that I just said my story to my father. Well, I wish he understood me; I wish.
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