Friends?

I Bet Myself $10 I Could Write This Without Sounding Pathetic—So Far, It’s Not Looking Great

Let’s start strong: I’m terrible at maintaining friendships. There, I said it. The first step is admitting it.

And yes, people like to say “Oh it’s just the ADHD!” like that’s a Get Out of Social Jail Free card. But to me, it mostly just feels like I’m selfish. Not “eat the last slice of pizza” but more like “I forgot you exist for three months.”

I work a lot. I start a thousand projects, and I’m pretty sure I dodge emotional intimacy like it owes me money. It’s not personal—I just have a natural gift for overcommitting to tasks leaving friends with scraps.

I get these bursts-“look at me adulting!” bursts—where I reply to texts, maybe even initiate plans. Then…like a turkey trying to fly, come crashing down to my oversaturated itinerary. No explanation. Just gone like Freaks and Geeks after one season.

People say, “Be intentional. Make others a priority.” Which I am successful at….for like 15 minutes. Then I’m back in my little project spiral, reminding myself that in the movie of someone’s life, I wouldn’t even get credited as “Guy With Coffee, Scene 3.”

Apparently, friendship is also a struggle for other middle-aged men. Shocking, I know. But seriously—have you tried doing life lately? Be a parent, be a “good” partner, work, pay bills, try to stay somewhat hydrated… (dare I mention fitness level?) and THEN fit in meaningful friendships? What am I, a wizard?

Speaking of wizards, aren’t they the best character depiction? Like, a wise-sage of a human with the ability to produce element-altering forces usually for the good on some hero’s journey- all that power and they are rarely the main character…just saying.

Anyway, At this point, it’s not sadness. It’s more like scientific observation. I’m weirdly okay not including many people in my life outside of my immediate family (whom I also sometimes emotionally ghost). There are so many plates spinning that if someone threw me a friendship plate, I’d probably just duck and hope it misses.

So here’s the existential gem: Is it better to have no friends than be a half-hearted, invisible friend? Because if so, I’m basically doing my friends a favor by not being around. You’re welcome.

I love my friends, their kids, their families—and still I disappear. Not out of malice, but out of… I don’t know. Life? Guilt? Google Calendar? This new Solitaire game on my phone?

So what’s the solution? I think it’s different for everyone. We all have to decide what kind of human we want to be—even if our social skills are stuck performing at a Windows 95 speed.

From a biblical standpoint, Christ modeled that a friend is someone who wants good for you. Now that I can do. I may not show up to brunch, but if you post something unhinged on Facebook, I will absolutely message you “bro… no.” That’s love, right?

We may not hit the bars or get into late-night mischief anymore (middle-aged sleepiness won’t allow for that sort of energy), but being there when it counts. That’s the kind of friendship I can still show up for.

Please ask me for a favor, I can do favors.

Love is a verb. It requires action. Sometimes that action is a hug. Sometimes it’s a blunt “You’re being an idiot and here’s why.” Either way—it counts.

So yeah, maybe I’m not the fuel source of group chats, but I still want good things for people. I still try, in my own over-done, inconsistent way.

And you know what? I think I pulled it off. Kept the pathetic levels low. Ten bucks stays in my pocket—and honestly, that’s the most responsible financial move I’ve made all week.