By Straits Times reporter Janice Wong

She used to be my classmate. We shared the same hobbies, borrowed each other's lecture notes and had long telephone conversations.

All that changed when she had a boyfriend. She would cancel our appointments whenever he asked her out. The first time it happened, I shrugged it off and even squealed in excitement for her. The second time it happened, I was annoyed but only remarked casually that I seemed to be on her B-list of friends. The third time it happened, I swore never to ask her out again.

She did not make amends. I guess the growing distance between friends can't be felt when one seems joined at the hip with one's partner and have him as a companion for all of one's activities. Then, they broke up. She called me in tears at midnight and I consoled her. All was forgiven. It felt good to put aside petty misgivings and stand steadfastly by a friend in times of adversity. Isn't that what friends are for?

Our friendship resumed. But when she found another man, suddenly, her weekends were reserved again. Whenever I called her, she sounded preoccupied and anxious to get off the phone. Later, she became completely incommunicado. A year later, I got a call from her; she was distraught. She told me her boyfriend had dumped her and asked that we meet. I declined and ignored her subsequent calls. I did not say what I was thinking: "My friendship is not a hotel. You don't walk in and out, as and when you wish."

Friendship brings other problems. As my social circle widens, I find it increasingly difficult to discern who my real friends and fair weather ones are. I often feel I am invited to parties and sought after as a friend for no other reason than that I am a journalist and can, hopefully, be a means to free publicity. The more people I know, the lonelier I feel. I am a sentimental soul who prefers the comfort of old friendships which hark back to a time when I was simply Janice, minus the fancy title and trappings.

That is why I am not entirely sure that I did the right thing by quitting that friendship. Was I too demanding? Should I have given her a second chance? After all, we really got along and it was not like she committed something treacherous like cheating me of my money, betraying a secret or stealing my boyfriend.

Still, I have had enough of being taken for granted. Being single and available does not mean my time is any less valuable than hers. When it is consistently a case of one person giving and the other person taking, it is time to take stock of the friendship and, perhaps, call it quits.

Like courtship - or even more so - friendship requires time, effort and reciprocity. While courting parties can demand commitment of each other directly, the expectations in a friendship are usually implicit, subtle and unsaid, and as a result, more prone to neglect. You may love your friends very much, but if they don't hear from you for an extended period of time, it's only human nature that they wonder just how much you really care about them.

As the late civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr said: "In the end, we remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends." Don't misunderstand me. Couples who are newly in love are naturally consumed by each other to the exclusion of everything - and everyone - else. I don't begrudge that. I certainly didn't expect my friend to pay as much attention to me as she did when she was single.

I also accept that when life exerts its pressures and one's career picks up pace, some friendships fade away. But I would be happy to rekindle such friendships. What I bristle at is being relegated to a nobody when romance calls and then being treated like some sort of stop-gap measure when it ends. So let's take some time out this week to have a drink with a dear old friend, say "How are you?" and be sincerely interested in finding out how they are. I have never been so busy or so popular to the extent that I have no time for an old friend.

I read the above article from a D-lander's entry and decided to post it as a reminder, not only to myself, but to others, especially those who call themselves friends. The article hit me right to my bones because firstly, I've been in the writer's shoes before, and secondly, I've also behaved in the same exact manner of her said friend.

It's one thing to be pushed aside and be taken for granted; you bitch and whine about the person who has behaved terribly towards you. On the other hand, it's another thing to replicate the said behaviour, thus "conveniently forgetting" others around you while being wrapped with the arms of love.

It's also another thing to continuously take rainchecks on those-whom-you-rarely-meet with excuses of family emergencies. (You ain't no Halliwell, honey.)

My tone is obviously drenched with bitterness and disappointment because despite myself making the effort to become a better friend, there is no reciprocation from the other party (whom I am bitter at), thus making me feel more and more isolated and pushed away. Of course, this whole entry also serves as a sole reminder to this friend of mine to at least, tone down the excuses, even if by just a teeny weeny bit.

I will definitely tell this person straight because I value our friendship and I value her as a friend. It doesn't mean that I will lace my words with honeyed praises because she used to say, that if I ever had anything to grouse about, I should be straightforward with her and not keep mum. So that's exactly what I'm going to do.

Once she doesn't take a raincheck on me again of course. 8-)