I was having drinks with a friend recently and, while discussing a particular situation, they observed that I was “really good friends with so-and-so”. I didn't say anything at the time because I was caught off guard. Since I’ve never considered the person in question a friend, the idea that others might think we were came as a complete surprise.

Later at home, I thought about my relationship with this person. Did they think we were friends? They'd definitely been calling me a lot lately to vent about something or someone. It's not a conversation, more of a hostage taking. ***Note: I'd like to apologize to the people I've forced to suffer through my imagined, personal dramas*** Anyway, when they call, I have no choice but to listen. (And, shameful as it is, I have on occasion put the phone down and walked away. They're always still talking when I come back.). Eventually, I have to get back to work and end up cutting them off mid-sentence.

Have I, simply by answering the phone, contributed to their misperception that I'm "there for them"? Just when I've decided to start distancing myself from them, I suddenly feel this crushing burden of responsibility.

From this, I'm sure you can figure out that the friend is female. Guys don't care if you're friends. While they may have one or two really close buddies, for the most part they care more about maintaining beneficial relationships. That can mean anything from a person who makes you laugh to someone who can get tickets to a basketball game. Women it seems, are hardwired to declare their friend status all over the place and demand proof– we're best friends, BFFs, whatever. Crap. Did this mean I would have to declare that we were not friends?

Okay, here's the thing. In my life, I've made major alterations to my opinion on what constitutes a friend. Pre-divorce, I thought everyone was my friend; my boyfriend's roommate's girlfriend, the guy who spins videos at work, the cafeteria lady or the convenience store guy.

After I got divorced and all my female friends abandoned me for the single guy my husband became, I got an education in the definition of friend. The field narrowed considerably. It was further diminished when the guy I considered my failsafe, my mentor-in-single-life declared that we were definitely not friends.

So like we do, I adapted and refined my perspective on the world. Going forward, the people I consider friends are defined by...what? Shared history? Similar worldviews? A sense of loyalty. A feeling that I could call on them in an emergency. The pleasure I feel for them when something good happens adn the heart-squeezing when  they or one of their children is sick or hospitalized.

The result is that at 50 I have far less friends than I did at 40 but considerably more acquaintances.

Unfortunately, I still feel responsible for people who call me friend. Reciprocol or not, I guess I'll just have to suck it.