Friends, acquaintances, love

I've been thinking about friendship, about love, about how at heart, most humans are fundamentally solipsistic.  Over the last four years, I've been nursing my best friend through his grief and anger at the death of his wife.  I may merely be cynical and bitter (and I don't deny it) but I have a very strong feeling that he wouldn't be there for me if I was in the same situation.  During this time he showed sides of himself which I found unattractive.  I know you are supposed to love your friend whatever happens, but it doesn't work like that: there comes a point where your feelings -- and you can't control them -- leave you.  And after that, what do you have left?

Then I happened to find an old letter in my files to an e-friend.  Well, perhaps an e-friend.  I'm unsure what he is now.  He's in strife now, and in pain.  And I'm there for him.  But ... why do I waste my time comforting him when I know he'll move on one day without a backward glance?

Then there was this guy I talked to on the train.  Intelligent, witty, different, he asked me what I was working on so diligently on my laptop.  Well, I told him.  Since then he's avoided me.  He sits elsewhere and barely makes eye contact.  I suppose he's embarassed by my writing.  An attempt to connect fails.  Sic vita est.

And lest you think that I am holding myself up as some kind of paragon, I am far from one.  An old school friend, whom I was half in love with 40 years ago, tries hard to keep in touch with me, and I am bad at reciprocating.  He needs affection and love too, we all do, and while I whinge pathetically about its absence in my life, I'm not prepared to put in the hard yards to make sure he's OK.

Ah well.  Maybe I'm just borne down by my ill-health and financial situation. When many things go wrong you struggle against even small setbacks.  I'm going to make a resolute effort to count my blessings.