The Night of Wistful Thinking

i just came across the following notion: "family is who you choose. it's the relatives who are chosen for us." although i  would extend this saying and include the addendum that you can choose your relatives as your family, i do agree with the sentiment when it comes to non-blood-related family. it's these friends that you grow to appreciate as much as your family, that sometimes grow to be your family, too. i know the hesitations which mostly go along the lines of "oh, but there is nothing quite like family, really" or "you can change friends but your family is your family" etc., but this is where those espousing these views lose me. your friends can become your family. not merely "just like", but truly family. emotionally family. importantly family. (conversely, i myself still find it challenging to think of my family as my friends.) but be that as it may, this whole friends-family-conundrum made me muse about those friends that might have been. those friends that should have been. those friends that never were.  

sometimes they never were because i never let them. sometimes they never let me. in the first case the decision was mine and i am fine with it. i had my reasons, rational or irrational. in the second case, i don't care about some of the friendships that never came to be. but a  f e w  of the latter could-have-beens haunt me for the sole reason that i don't know why they never were. because i wanted them to be. to become real and to stay real. i am convinced these could have been potentially great, mutually beneficial and equally appreciated friendships. and i fear that their unilateral prevention is to my, and the other person's, considerable detriment. i mourn these aborted friends. for their sakes. and for mine.