Cath passed away on Friday morning. Even though she'd been dealing with the cancer and chemo for about six months now, I wasn't ready for it. Up until a month or two ago they were fairly optimistic that the chemo would work. Even when they realized the cancer had spread, they estimated she had another year or two left. It just seemed so sudden. I was told she went in her sleep, painlessly, though, for which I'm grateful.
The weekend was rough. And it's brought home the sad fact of how few friends I really have around. Don't get me wrong, I have a few good friends I'd do anything for (they know who they are), but the majority of the people I talk to don't fall into that category. Sadly, most are more the fair-weather friend type. They're around constantly when we're just joking and having a good time, but the minute something bad happens they mysteriously vanish. Or they just don't acknowledge that anything has happened and act the way they always do.
Is it really so selfish to want friends who are considerate of me or ask how I'm holding up? Or who will put their own fun on hold for five fucking minutes to let me talk about it? Am I just expecting too much from people? I'd like to think that's not the case. I mean, a close friend of the family died. I don't think I'm being unreasonable to expect my friends to be here for me.
Oh well. If that's the way I feel, maybe I should make it a point to try and make some new friends, and ease back from the ones who have shown time and again that they really don't care much. If I don't do that at least, I really have no right to complain.