friends

Image from here.

I often wonder if I am the most insecure person in the world.

I spent most of this weekend with friends. Last night, I had an impromptu dinner with my high school barkada.We met up for ramen and girltalk and then sometime after when we went to get drinks, I found myself settling into this funk, questioning what my place in the group was, why my friends found value in being friends with me, how it would have worked out if I weren't part of the group, things like that. It was unfunny because I have been asking myself these questions for over 15 years already, or since we first became friends when we were in high school. Then, I was the overeager girl who wanted so much to be liked by everyone, who walked on eggshells because I had a hard time finding a middle ground between perky and annoying. I still sometimes think I am that girl now. If I have some kind of label that tells other people that I am a sad person who must be kept at an arm's length.



This afternoon, I drove over to visit a friend and her new baby. I had been having these questions about our friendship as well, because I am insecure like that. My friend is this particularly amazing woman, and a lot of times, I wonder if she does not ask herself why we are friends. I sometimes get the sense that I bring her down, or hold her back or something. But today as I sat and watched her nurse her baby and she called me her best friend when no one was really listening, it felt like a hug.

I guess, at the end of the day, it is me who has to like me the most. Who has to believe that I am deserving of that kind of friendship.