I have lots of friends. I don’t think I could count them all. You know, the types of people that you could go out to dinner with once in a while, have a few drinks at a happy hour with, and you see them every once in a while.

Then I have my really good friends. You know, the ones that will actually be there for you for the rest of your life. The kind that will drop everything for you when you really need something. These are the ones that you have fun with all of the time. And you can say or do anything to them and they might even get mad at you for a little while, but they’re loyal to you as you would be loyal to them. I could probably count those on my fingers and toes.

You make those really good friends by investing a lot into them over time. Being roommates. Spending endless hours on a team working the late nights to get a software release out the door. Sharing New Years Eve year after year, a ski trip, or regular road trips to fun places. Being part of the group that always helps each other move from one home to the next, or throwing baby showers for each other. Encouraging your friends to take a risk and being there for them even if things go bad. Good times. Bad times.

Hal in Toronto writes in the New York Times about how he was really proud of the fact that he had 700 friends on Facebook. Time to throw a party! He creates the event on Facebook and sends out his invitations.

Fifteen “Will Attends”, Sixty “Maybes”. Should be a good time!

“On the evening in question I took a shower. I shaved. I splashed on my tingly man perfume. I put on new pants and a favorite shirt. Brimming with optimism, I headed over to the neighborhood watering hole and waited.

“And waited.

“And waited.

“Eventually, one person showed up.”

Clicking on that “Accept Invitation to be Hal’s Friend” button wasn’t really much of an investment on the part of these so-called friends. Hal ponders the situation:

I would learn, when I asked some people who didn’t show up the next day, that “definitely attending” on Facebook means “maybe” and “maybe attending” means “likely not.” So I probably shouldn’t have taken it personally. But the combination of alcohol and solitude turned my thoughts to self-pity. Was I really that big of a loser? Or was it that no one wants to get together in real life anymore? It wasn’t Facebook’s fault; all those digital pals were better than nothing. For chipping away at past friendships and blocking honest new efforts, you really have to blame the entire modern world. People want to hang out with you, I assured myself. They just don’t have the time.

Hal, unless your last name is “9000“, I suggest that you leave the digital pals behind you. They are just made up of 1’s and 0’s and when you log off at the end of the night, they are erased from memory. Get back to the real friends that are in the real world and forge deeper bonds with them. They are probably sitting behind a glowing monitor counting their Facebook Fakefriends just like you were, and feeling about as empty as a result.

You might only have a dozen or so of those flesh-and-blood, loyal friends, but they are the ones who are really worth spending the time with. And when Facebook goes bankrupt some day and shuts down, you don’t have to worry about losing touch with your real friends.