Why a Person Lacks Friends?

When questioned about his lack of friends, a man pondered and likened friendship to a diamond—rare, precious, yet surrounded by numerous imitations. A single misstep, followed by more, could lead one to cynically believe that authentic friendships are but elusive gems, overshadowed by an abundance of fakes.

Haruki Murakami echoes these sentiments in his work "Norwegian Forest," exploring the theme through the voices of his characters. Do you embrace loneliness? The aversion to solitude is expressed not as a disdain for it but as a reluctance to forge superficial connections, "I don't like being alone I just don't make any extra acquaintances; I just don't want to be more disappointed in people."

There is a sad yet poignant parable—a tale of the relationship between a boy and an apple tree, offering insight to both those without friends and those fortunate enough to have them. The parable may offer the answer to the question of what it means to truly value and cherish the connections in our life.

The little boy forged a friendship with the apple tree in the forest, frequenting its presence to swing on its branches, indulge in the apples it generously offered, craft leafy wreaths, and fancifully envision himself as the sovereign ruler of the woodland. During scorching days, weary from play, the apple tree served as a haven, shielding him from the sun as he drifted into slumber in its comforting shade. Rooted in the belief of an honest and sincere companionship, the apple tree stood witness as time flowed on.

As the boy matured, his visits to the faithful friend dwindled. Embracing new connections and pursuits, he ventured into the tapestry of life, yet sporadically revisited the apple tree. On one such return, the tree discerned a palpable sorrow in his demeanor. "What happened to you, my friend?" asked the apple tree looking into his eyes, the boy answered glumly, "I do not have money and neither do you."

A benevolent smile graced the apple tree's branches as it responded, "I possess apples; pluck them, sell them, and once again, you shall be my joyous and cherished friend." The boy harvested the apples, carried them away, and sold them, but to the apple tree's dismay, he did not come back. Days turned into a prolonged wait until, at last, the boy returned, discontent etched on his face. The tree, curious yet concerned, queried, "Why the delay in your return?" The boy bared his troubles, "Life is burdensome. Everyone has a family and children, but I lack a home of my own. What purpose does our friendship serve if you cannot provide me a home?"

A resolute response escaped the apple tree's lips, "I can! Sever my branches, construct the dwelling of your dreams, and happiness shall once again be yours."

He severed all its branches, departed, and erected a dwelling for himself. He got married and reveled in life's pleasures until his twilight years, the memory of the apple tree fading into the recesses of his mind. Yet, destiny drew him back one day, "I'm weary of it all; I yearn to sail away, to escape the sight of others. I need a boat; I don't know where to get one."

Silence hung heavy as the apple tree observed its friend's despair. Despite the silent plea in its gaze, the man, driven by his discontent, unsheathed his axe. With determined swings, he felled the trunk, used them to create a boat. Departing without a backward glance, he left behind a tormented stump, battered and forlorn.

Time unfolded, as raindrops quenched the stump's thirst, and sunlight warmed the earth around it. The Apple tree feel very insignificant.

Then, a subtle miracle transpired. From the depths of its being, a tender green sprout emerged, evolving into a robust and vibrant apple tree. Resilient and brimming with vitality, it embraced life anew, savoring each day's offerings.

Yet, when a little boy extended a friendly greeting, proposing, "Let's be friends," the apple tree, now scarred and cynical, quivered in silence.

No longer capable of believing in the purity of honest and sincere friendships, it stood as a silent testament to the scars of betrayal and the erosion of trust.

George Carlin, an American stand-up comedian, actor, writer, screenwriter, and producer, once delved into the depths of human cynicism, positing that within every cynic lies a disappointed idealist. It's a poignant reflection, suggesting that even Carlin himself may have, at some point, played the role of an apple tree for someone—an anchor of hopeful sincerity in a world of disillusionment.

In "The Vampire Diaries," Damon Salvatore articulates the arduousness of overcoming those who have inflicted pain and disappointment. While some may debate the challenge of forgetting such friends, Salvatore's insight sheds light on the enduring struggle.

Before hastily passing judgment on those lacking in companionship, consider the possibility that they, too, have played the role of an apple tree numerous times. Perhaps, having been let down too often, they've reached a point where belief in genuine, sincere friendships has waned, leaving them with a heavy heart. The absence of friends isn't necessarily a reflection of their character; it may signify a collection of reasons not to place trust in others.

The melancholy truth is that the absence of friends can be a manifestation of a person's multifaceted journey through disappointment and betrayal, creating a complex tapestry of reasons to be wary of extending branches into the unpredictable terrain of human connections.