It was past our bedtime, somewhere around 3am that we finally made it back. and in the silence, he looked at me ponderingly, deciding whether or not he should say what was on his mind.

Say it.

"The faces of your friends are always changing," he finally stated bluntly, like it was a crime to have a constantly revolving social circle. i felt this terribly urge to suddenly have to explain myself. I wanted to say, I'm not fake or superficial... I'm just friendly to everyone I meet...I don't mean to... but I get to know people and...

Instead I settled for, "I welcome everyone into my life with open arms. Some stay, some go. The good ones, they always last." and since I always meet so many new faces, I have more chances of finding the good ones than most.

I knew what it was though. He couldn't trust as easily. He couldn't be as open to newcomers. 

Why is it that I always meet or manage to fall behind the walls of those who constantly put them up?

I don't mind being a sole confidante. Rather, anyone would feel special to have someone so reserve open up to them. But I sometimes conjure up resentment in them. It's like they hold it against me that I've discovered them finally. I've figured them all despite all the noise.

But I felt guilty when I was accused of having too many transient relationships.

Why should I apologize for being the way that I am?

I once met someone presumptuous enough to come into my life for a brief second and have the audacity to proclaim, "Look at all the faces that come and go in your life. You don't know how to make lasting friendships. You constantly burn bridges." I wish it were that simple. And maybe it is because she was starting to realize that she wasn't one of the good ones.