Whenever I organize a movie outing and during most of the time, I will book tickets in advance; even when we’re going on the weekdays. This is a costly approach because that would mean I’ll have to bear an additional booking fee. And the reason for all these extra fees being paid is that a good number of people cannot keep promises.

This group of people agree to your invitation initially because they want to make you happy. That was genuine, no bullshit and it came right from their hearts. Wow, if there’s a Nobel Prize for Friendships, they’ll instantly fall under the list of nominees. But they will eventually recant. They will realise on hindsight that their participation is insignificant because after all, they are still the company of others.

From first hand experience, informing them that the tickets were booked can serve one great purpose. Unless the fellow descends from a royal family, mid-income children like us normally feel a pinch or two. If money makes the world go round, it certainly makes one think a moment or two. It’s easy for ambivalence to set in when we are living in Singapore. We see each other every damn day, it’s unlikely we will miss one another to the core just because we miss a movie or two, or the night cycling event tonight. And it’s just a small event, for crying out loud, why the hostility? Right?

For those who assailed long-distance relationships for not working out, it’s probably for the same reason too. We hardly try when it becomes inconvenient. We like convenience and we keep harping on it. We cheer in unison when there is a convenience store that springs up under our block, saving us some effort to walk under the scorching sun. We cheer as though you won lottery when someone offers to buy us supper because that can save us some time from the peripatetic routine. We cheer when people do us favours. But all these cheering are made at the expense of others’ happiness. We show appreciation and gratefulness, but that showing is perhaps short-termed.

For those who truly have experienced long-distance relationships, each meeting is carefully planned. Meetings like this always become higher priorities just like 21st birthday parties carry so much weight among Singaporean twenty year olds. That’s the reason why we need drastic situations — where separation is eminent — to occasion a need to start taking friendships seriously.

Then there’s this other category of people: The influential. In most cases, we participate because there are others to accompany. In a fateful situation where it almost always happen, when a particular person recant from joining, they’ll begin dragging others along with them. They will resort to methods that will illustrate the diminished significance of participation. In that way, this will justify their decision, leaving them with no compunction at all for breaking their initial promises. Should they face oppression from others, there’s at least an army he’d enlisted to fight this war.

Come to think of it, it’s pointless to raise morale and garner support when we prioritize people differently. I should start reflecting why people turn down promises on me at the last minute, offering truckload of excuses to mitigate their lack of trustworthiness.