Friend's Are Not Enough

Where there's a fear of dying alone

“When someone loves you, the way they talk about you is different. You feel safe and comfortable.” ― Jess C. Scott, The Intern 

I used to believe not too long ago, that friends will be enough for life. That friends will help fill in for the lack of romance and the presence of loneliness. That if I or anyone, never finds “the one”, that person that we can call our own and then be foolishly bound to. That our friends - the community that we’ve built over time - would fill in effectively enough. Now, I disagree.

This disagreement is motivated by what I’ll describe as an intense and swift change of perceptions, in particular, the nature of what both types of relationships offer us. Dare I say, friendships -true, meaningful friendships, and our long-term romantic relationships are some of the most meaningful connections we would probably make with other people. Perhaps our families are an exception.

For the majority of us, we build friendships wanting and expecting different things. We seek romance and a lifelong partner with various standards and hopes. But at the centre of everything, there’s an expectation of presence; because the essence, sustenance, and experience of both relationships are determined by what kind of presence they hold in our lives.

Now the manifestation of these presences I speak of is variable and subject to numerous similarities and differences. But the most glaring difference between their nature and provision is that over time, we realise:

“Friends can only be there for us in life, but they can’t live it with us.”

Now, you may be expressing a sense of confusion or disagreement, which is understandable. But make no mistakes, no friendship can take the place of having someone walking through life with you. Living the same reality, facing the wickedness and uncertainty of life not just with you, but by your side. You bear the consequences together and reap the joys with each other’s hands. Your joys and sorrows have a companion of steady comfort.

I know this is a fantastical imagining of how a relationship is but, let a man dream. Regardless of whether you’ll admit that you think this way or not, this is how most of us think about a relationship. It’s part of what shapes our desire for and our expectations of a monogamous relationship.

Friends are awesome. Believe me, they’re ridiculously great, to an extent that you can’t consistently believe to be real. But as I continue on in life, I recognize the gaps in the comfort, assurance, and emotional satisfaction that they provide me, and vice versa. This isn’t, necessarily, due to a reduction in the affection and commitment amongst friends. It isn’t necessarily due to negativity of some sort between friends. It could just be life happening to people.

There are tons of memes whose subject is simply “the tired adult”. A lot of them constantly communicate how tired most of us feel, and how we constantly feel and probably are overburdened, with constant things to do and keep up with that we end up neglecting one another. Not out of meanness, but exhaustion.

We see everything else apart from our non-romantic relationships, with the exception of business, as needing immediate attention. We always make notes of how we’re gonna reach out, reply to that chat, return that missed call, actually plan and go for that hangout we’ve been wanting. But we barely ever seem to do so, despite our (hopefully) good intentions. We do desire the company of our friends, but we’re too busy to actually seek it out.

Now, while I do think that this is an easily solvable problem, I will declare that we don’t bother solving it because we desire a romantic relationship. Just like believers waiting for the 2nd Advent of Christ, we stand sturdily in our expectations -through sufferings, trials, tribulations, and minor wins- a loving partner. Someone who we won’t have to worry about losing contact or touch with because, despite the tediousness of life, they’ll be there with us.

“We may drift apart every day, for what reasons. But we’ll always end it with each other”

Unlike our friends, who we have to constantly be understanding, accepting, and forgiving of their absences in our lives. Due to the stresses of said life that we all collectively live. Our Partners, our sworn companions will demand no such need. The oath is to be present with, for, and to each other. Unlike friendships, you're not two telephones exchanging messages over a communication channel. No, you both serve as the core foundation that sustains the connection. You're not merely linked by cables and signals; you are intertwined like a collection of intricate mechanisms and interrelated components. You are each other's integral piece, forming a unified whole. Friendship is not this.

Regardless of how much your friend loves you, their life is not deeply embroiled and stubbornly bound to yours. They have other friends, they do different work, and they will (if not already) have a boo, to whomst their attention will be heavily laden. They will build a family that might become secondarily connected to you. They will, in essence, live lives that are fundamentally disconnected from yours. But you don’t have to worry too much about that. After all, friends do come and go. You need not worry unless you don’t and have been unable to get a “boo”. And in this realization lies the main problem.

Not everyone will end up with someone, and not everyone who ends up with someone will end up with some they love and who loves or tries to love them just as much. Now while both realities are dreadful, they aren’t equally so. Why? Because even if the one you end up with isn’t the fantastical love of your life, they are still someone who’s bound to spend life with you. Whether the experience is terrible or not.

“They say misery loves company. Because even the miserable would rather dwell in the company of misery than be alone.”

Or like Nigerians like to say “At all at all, na him bad pass”. Someone, even if that person is synonymous with a P.O.S., is somewhat, still someone. That’s why I’d like to focus on those who might or will not end up with someone. Those who are afraid of dying alone.

As unbelievable as it seems, the concept of dying alone that is; it’s a very real and unfortunately normal thing. We just don’t hear about it a lot because there’s no one to tell us their story. They died alone. It’s now common knowledge, of the rising rate of loneliness in our society. Both among the young and the old. There’s a certain pain that comes with the consideration of living and dying alone. To never have had someone you could have claimed as yours and vice versa.

I’ve spoken to numerous people, all of different ages, with different circumstances surrounding why they think this way. From the one who’s never been approached, to the one who’s always been rejected, to the one at 40+ who’s never had a meaningful relationship despite how much they’ve genuinely tried – done the therapy, changed their standards, prayed like hell – the works.

Many fear that nobody would ever love them, and they do not want to settle for the company of misery. Those who’re always rejected and told they don’t deserve love because of their body. Those who fear establishing a connection due to sexual preferences and the death that visibility and the hate of people can bring them. Those who society tells them they don’t fit enough to be accepted and loved due to some neurological difference. Many reasons and circumstances govern the loneliness of people and I cannot account for all of them in a few paragraphs.

They all have friends, but they also have to constantly watch these friends move on to find and experience love, whether short-term or long-term. They have to watch as their friends get on their knees, say their I do’s and look forward to the promise and reality of forever. Despite being happy for them – and they truly are – they can’t help but wonder if they’ll ever get that. Some have given up on trying. Simply believing they’ve been forsaken and exiled from ever experiencing it.

“Thine eyes shalt see, thine ears shalt hear of it, but thy mouth shalt taste not, nor will thine hands grasp such a love.”

There’s a certain level of pain one experiences when they are truly joyful and for a friend who has found love and successfully kept it, yet truly jealous and nigh envious that they have found and kept their love. These contradictions and the dissonance that manifests make them both want to be near and also distant from them. They want to continue to be a part of their life but also recognize that something fundamental has changed about the nature and equality of their relationship. They realise that soon, they will belong to the category of “you shouldn’t be taking relationship advice from single people”.

They realize that soon, they’ll be seen as bitter, demanding, intrusive, etc, since they’ll always want to be around, they’ll want to spend time with their friends. Time that said friends now have to split between their partner, their work, a child or children (probably), and then you. On a scale of preference, the single friend matters less and hence gets less time, effort, and love. There’s a reason married people are easily better friends to other married friends than their single ones.

Despite how much your married friends will try to accommodate, and make time, it will always be lacking. Especially the longer you remain single and the reality of being single and alone forever becomes more real. And as one slowly, but surely grows older, the more they realize: everyone has someone whose existence wakes, breathes, and slumbers around them, except you.

Now one might suggest building a community of other “single to stupor” friends”. At least y’all will have each other’s backs. Take each other out, and be available to each other. It’s possible, but it probably won’t happen. Because for all the friends we have, love and cherish, they probably would never satisfy that itch, the urge for a soulmate.

I write this knowing this feeling to an extent. Being one who has loved but not deemed worthy and appropriate enough to be loved back. As one who always is the third wheel. I write this as the one who’s been the kept secret, deemed fuckable but not dateable. And try as I may, try as I have, always fail to earn the love I seek. Been told not so overtly, but surely, I ain’t shit.

I do sometimes fear that this will continue and I will fail to earn or deserve love on a scale where a person’s life will be bound to mine, not out of debt or necessity, but out of want. I’m 26 and still hold hope for there’s a lot more of life to come. But I do sometimes stay up all night thinking about it. I have friends with this same fear, and more online strangers who live this reality.

I try to ready myself for it, to be okay if this becomes my reality. But I wonder if one can ever truly be okay with this. If one can ever truly ignore that gaping hole in one’s heart and life. I honestly don’t know and I doubt I ever will. But one thing I do know is, concerning this, friends are just not enough.

“And that's the thing, right? At a certain point, there is no escape. There is no starting over. Do you want to die alone or is it better to have someone there? Even if it's not some ideal romantic situation, it's preferable to being alone! Real love doesn't happen to everyone. It's luck! I've never had it. And I guess I never will.” ― Noah Van Sciver, The Lizard Laughed