I ended a three-hour meeting.

Don't get me wrong - the meeting went fine; in fact, I'd say it was rather productive considering that we managed to tie some loose ends together. Perhaps it's the duration of the meeting that rendered me tired and worn out. Whatever the case, today's one of those days I want to be alone.

But the lure of friends deny me that opportunity. Funny how everybody seems to rally around a person departing our midst and in the process forget, or at least seems to forget everyone else. For a moment, that one person has been turned into a newborn child who holds the world's attention. It is a sight to behold, yet a lonely experience to have. Perhaps this is how the older child feels when he's got a new brother/sister in the family - he's forgotten, or at least seems to be forgotten.

Don't get me wrong, again - we're all friends and this is one of those few moments we have left with him. But yet, it seems all attention is diverted to him. Attention is a resource: once diverted, others are deprived.

Here's where I ask myself whether I'm being selfish.

My answer: I think I am; but more pertinently, am I wrong in requesting for a listening ear too?

I'm starting to feel numb to this whole . . . issue-situation(?). I really don't want a community of friends who only get together to chill-hang out. I mean it's great to have that, but it seems so . . . superficial. To know that after all these years I've been in church and to not have an community of friends where I can openly pour my heart out is depressing. Honestly, the feeling totally sucks. The people I'm close to - or at least close enough to pour my heart out - are pre-dominantly friends out of church (nick's the exception). As far as my cynical mind takes me, I reckon this will continue to some time and that thought is totally, totally depressing.

For now, tonight, I will go out and be merry with them. After all, that's what I'm supposed to do . . . act.