Current mood:	thoughtful
Entry tags:	1st person, ic post, tm topic

139: Do you tend to make friends easily? (411 words)
I suppose that would depend on how you define “friend.” I’m certainly not bad at conversation, and I enjoy getting to know people—ordinary people—in most settings.

But “friend,” at least to me, seems to connote something a little deeper, something that goes beyond shared stories in a tavern or… well, think of it this way: the Latin for friend, amicus, comes from the root amo, to love. A true friend isn’t just someone you enjoy talking to. It’s someone who you trust and love, who you can rely on under any circumstances.

Given that criteria, my best friend in the world is my brother Will. And he was the toughest friend to make by far.

(Jacob shifts nervously in his seat, preparing to begin the story.)

Our sister, Lotte, died when I was five years old, and Will was eight. It was, partially, my fault. I didn’t cause her to fall ill, but I did ruin any chance of her getting help. Will never forgave me for that, not for fifteen years. I’m still not entirely sure he has, and really I wouldn’t blame him. Our mother died eight years later, and then… we were left with no other choice but to count on each other. As much as neither of us wanted it that way, that’s how it was, and we did what we had to.

What I wouldn’t admit to myself for quite some time was, as much as I hated Will at the time, I wanted to love him because, well, we were all we had. There was nobody else. But frankly, I was scared because of how hateful he would act towards me, and because I thought I deserved it. I didn’t have the courage to ask for his friendship.

It took a lot for me to finally be able to. Seven years and some rather… extraordinary occurrences. And then one day he asked me what I wanted from him and I just… said it.

‘Honestly? You’re my brother! I want you to believe in me, and I want you to help me.’

And when it was all over, he said he was sorry he’d never believed in me.

We’ve been getting along a lot better recently. Learning to live with each others’ imperfections, I suppose. And I do feel I can trust him now. Perhaps not completely, but… in ways that count, if that makes any sense. In ways that make him a good friend.