Friendships

When you hop on a plane and fly to another country with out any connections, at some point, you realize how alone you are. This is a great thing; this is a terrifying thing. I think this is why was so easy to make friends the first few days of being here. Everyone is searching for someone to cling onto. We need to be recognized by another conscious as if the validation of our own existence depends on it – and maybe it does. We, the new students here, form our first relationships out of necessity. Our friends make us safe. We call them when we’re lost in the day and stay close to them while going out at night. When we come home we hope to see them, eat with them, talk to them. But the entire time we tell ourselves not to become too attached. We are not here to hang out with Americans; we are here for the Danes, the city, Europe, and classes. We cannot posses each other. We must encourage one another to venture from the safety of our friend groups and into the unknown, despite the vulnerability it poses for all of us. Friendships began as necessities but must be recognized by all involved as unessential pleasures.

Sometimes we fall into the illusion of intimacy. As if knowing each other for a week and sharing a few drinks makes us life long companions. Realistically, we will be fortunate to remain friends for the entire semester. I think those who realize this are at risk for developing narcissistic friendships. They befriend for the safety and the thrill and other selfish needs. They neither plant trees nor care for them, but take from their branches when the fruit is ripe. And then there is a third group of people. There are those who do not recognize the illusion and loose themselves to each other, rather than the abroad experience, there are those who recognize it but take advantage of it, and then there are those who genuinely care for others. Faced with the reality that these friendships will die, that in four months they will never again see the ones they became so close to, that these friends never came to Copenhagen for them and that in the greater drama of one another’s lives, no one here holds a significant role or even amounts to mattering. Despite the impending fatality and daunting nihility, they care.

And yet, no matter who we are for each other, at some level, we all long for the intimacy that only exists in the erroneous perception of reality.