The Shelf Life of Everything

I'm not sure if it's just me, but everything kinda feels temporary now. It sucks to realize I'll be happily logging something in my journal one day, only for me to have this eerie feeling that everyone I mentioned will disappear from my life the next month. Or when I make a new friend and we talk every day for a week, only for us to stop talking the week after that, and then go back to being strangers again. I try my best to act oblivious or uncaring when these things happen, when things fade. But the truth is that they hurt, haha.

Of course, I still live up to society's "ideal." To be that nonchalant, stoic dude that doesn't get bothered by people leaving, or the person that's "happily living in the moment because they know it won't last forever." But the truth is, I really, really, really want things to last forever. It sounds silly, especially for someone my age, but I kinda wish I had something that lasts. It's only human to want some stability and security in life, to not feel like every good thing will have its expiration date.

But I guess things have been expiring faster and faster recently, and that sucks.

When I believed in forever and everything was fresh produce

It wasn't all doom and gloom at the start, of course. I feel like such an old timer saying this, but life was way different back then. Friendships in my life used to have a long shelf life and also felt fresh.

One of my favorite songs of all time, Memories by Maroon 5, explains this feeling best:

There's a time that I remember when I did not know no pain
When I believed in forever and everything would stay the same

For a time in my life, everything did stay the same. I grew up and studied in the same school for practically my entire childhood to my teenage years. I started studying at Integrated Montessori Center in the first grade, then I graduated from elementary there, then started attending its high school, until graduating from high school—all while staying in the same building. I learned and grew up in the same building for 13 years, I believe. As of writing, it is still the longest period of my life.

Being in the same building for more than a decade, those new faces at the start of one school year would slowly become the staple for many years to come. I had the same friends growing up and teasing me from grade school all the way up to our last day in high school. It was fun because I was branded as a "weird kid" in school, and yet I've made so many deep, lasting friendships. From the sleepy, popular girl to that rich guy classmate we had, I regularly made friends everywhere I went. Even my school-mandated prom partner, LK, became instrumental in my life.

Through college and up until adulthood, I regularly met new friends who would make a lasting impression.

People who've kept me in their social circle to hang out and talk about life with, how their and my struggles are, and how it's not so bad going through all those if there's a friend to share things with. I sometimes slept in the condo unit of that one friend, and she was cool with it. Plus, they were a platonic friend, mind you.

Even though the COVID pandemic felt isolating and I was mostly alone for most of it, I regularly played with friends. Almost every day, we would hop on a call and play games together. Which made it a really happy moment in general.

"Forever" wasn't such a foreign concept because all I've ever known was the constant presence of people around me. They were my forever. Or, at least, I thought they were.

When things started to go bad

One of the recurring themes of my blog posts over the past few years was how disastrous 2022 was for my friendships. At this point, I'm kind of tired of retelling how bad everything was, so for the sake of brevity, just know that it was a bad year. I lost super-close friends; my best friend and I got into an argument that led us to stop talking; I became estranged from the people who I thought were solid friends.

2022 took a toll on me in a significant way, revealing that friendships, in general, are often just a fragile agreement between people that can easily break. I thought that they were something that's forged and strengthened in some bond, like good memories with them contributing to the strength of that friendship. At that point, I had accumulated so many fond memories with my friends that I thought our bond was indestructible.

Obviously, I was in for a rude awakening, haha.

When all was said and done, I only had a fraction of the friends I had during the pandemic. Ironic how I'm out of COVID lockdown and yet I feel more isolated than ever before.

I recently learned that mold has roots that run deep beneath the surface, and the viability of cutting it off varies if something is soft or hard. For hard food, mold can somehow be cut off, and that food can surprisingly still be safe to use. In soft, porous food, mold has roots that run deep inside. By the time something is "fuzzy" with mold on the outside, it's already too late, and it's best to just throw it in the trash.

Even though some of the friends I lost during 2022 eventually came back, my relationship with them already had mold that ran beneath the surface. It's not that they can't be my friend again, but I just don't trust them anymore. I don't want to make the same mistake of trusting the wrong people again. It's not a grudge that I hold toward them, but it's just this belief that I genuinely don't see them as a good friend anymore, no matter what they try.

As if left out under the hot sun

It's not like I can isolate myself forever and just stay in a bubble until I lose all of my friends. I still want to meet new people, and so I did.

I tried to meet a few people this year and I found some friends in people who have reconnected with me again. At the start, things were really nice. For some of those new people, we were talking every day. I would even talk to them while I was eating. Sometimes, throughout the entire night! I'd share them things even I never knew about myself, like the circumstances of my birth or the recent problems I was facing.

But it's kind of sad how warm those friendships start out, only for them to be left out one day to go bad under the hot sun. For at least one of those new relationships, I took the heat for something I did, and our friendship spoiled immediately after. In another one, the other person did something that immediately spoiled our friendship and gave me the ick.

Both things were so horrible to me, I stopped making new friends altogether, and I put a stop on meeting new people. For around 3 years now, I have felt like I have a revolving door of people coming and leaving my life. It's just an endless cycle of "hi, hello, goodbye" that is honestly disgusting now. The thought of meeting a new person, opening up to them, and then realizing they'll eventually leave, makes me nauseous. It makes me want to throw up. I just want to put a stop to it. It's so not worth it to meet new people who'll only last for, like, 2 weeks or a month at max.

I think Summer Storm by Jessica perfectly encapsulates this feeling. Even though it's originally in Korean, these translated lines still mean so much to me:

Instead of saying fake hellos
Oh I’d rather be alone
I don’t wanna waste time

Even though those friendships are far gone from my everyday life, and someone came back in my life to stand in as a good friend, the pain I experienced still lingers. It makes me wonder how long until this ultimately expires? How long will this last? Is it just a matter of time until my friendship with someone goes bad as well? Or what if everything just goes bad?

Best kept chilled

Worrying about whether or not a specific friendship will expire soon is honestly kind of pointless. I've matured enough in life to know that nothing really lasts. People come and go, and while some friendships have a longer shelf life than others, that doesn't mean that they're everlasting.

With regards to making new friends, I still think that putting a freeze on meeting new people is still the best way to go. The pain I felt from the new people I met this year is just too extreme, and I don't want to risk getting hurt again this year. The pain I endured from those friendships is no joke. Putting myself out there just to get hurt by some new person again is just... not cool.

Still, I've made friends in the workplace who are pretty chill. But since they're workmates, I'll put some distance between us and not let them bleed into my personal life after work hours that much. I don't want another repeat of what happened in my last company, either, so I'll place strict boundaries between us.

That all won't fix the underlying feeling of me wanting more stability and closeness with my friends. I still want to have a solid circle of friends that I wholeheartedly trust. I want to laugh and feel safe with people that I know will still be here next month, or next year.

Maybe someday my heart will defrost and open up to new people once again. But until then, I think it's worth putting emphasis on the friends who are still here for me. Honestly, just having them stay makes up for all the difference, and it's kinda cool to have people who still ask me about my day or play games and hang out with me. I just went to the ER for kidney stones recently, and I had quite a few friends send their well wishes and even reach out. It's pretty nice to still have a few kind, caring friends.

I'll preserve those friendships as best as I can so that I can be with them a little longer.