The Close Ones, The Working Ones

There are many people close to me. Yet when I need them, they somehow drift away. Many want to be close, but no one wants to stay close.

They love me, they want what's best for me. But when I need them most, they seem to be somewhere else... I can't find them. From searching and not finding, I've grown strangely numb lately. When someone claims to be close to me, I find myself smiling.

It's not that they aren't truly close to me, yet I don't know why I haven't found even one or two of them beside me during times of trouble. It's not as if they lacked the means, opportunity, or time to stand by me. They had all of that — only the desire and will were missing. Unless something affects them directly, people rarely think deeply about anything without reason. In modern times, the art of self-preservation is life itself.

So many well-wishers, so many close people... they were hiding somewhere during my difficult times... Though yes, I've never lacked for friends or close people during happy days. While people may consider someone their own, generally no one thinks of another's troubles as their own — except for themselves. It's only in times of trouble that you realize the depth of helplessness makes the Pacific Ocean seem shallow.

Who then are the people truly close to you? Those who stay by your side until the end, caring nothing for any risk of being endangered or despised — they are your close ones. Those we think of as close, it turns out, are of no use to us even once in a lifetime. In life, we need people who are useful more than people who are close.