People always seem to want to be friends. When you’re breaking up with someone it’s the knock the wind out of you, cherry on the sundae comment that always seems to rear its ugly head right when you need it least. No, I’m sorry. I don’t think you are going to get THAT as your thanks for trying relationship parting gift.
But as I grow older and wiser I have started to realize that what was actually being requested most of the time is let’s be friendly. Let’s be cordial so that when I run into you with your new lucky lady we can smile, and ask all the right superficial questions that give the appearance that we care and are interested in maintaining relationships. Let’s be on good enough terms so that when my name comes up in casual conversation “that nut job” isn’t the first phrase to escape your lips.
You may ask: “Why do you make everything so hard? Why do you over analyze and over think everything? Why do you have these ridiculous expectations of people?” “Is it tiring being that uptight?” To which I respond: “All valid questions, and yes, it’s exhausting.” But hey, I give just as good as I get. I could laundry list out why I am a friend catch, as I break my arm patting myself on the back. Instead, I’ll just leave it at: “you want to have this girl in your back pocket.”
In case you haven’t caught my subtle drift I was recently asked to “be friends”. (sigh). The truth is that in select instances I have been able made this friends thing work. I’ve been able to shut off the wanting more and my innate desire to cuddle because I know that my life will be richer for having that person be a part of it. Not everyone makes the cut; some will always be relegated to Facebook friends that are hidden the moment I click the friendship accept button (my desire to people please prevents me from denying anyone).
But the real reason that I have a fairly successful batting average in this area is because I’ve been lucky enough that the other half of the friendship necklace wants to make the effort. They check in to see hear about my latest adventure with the LA Mass Transit System. They suggest books and music and movies that I.Have.Just.Got.To.See. They offer advice after the most recent crash and burn dating disaster because they’ve been there, done that. They know that sometimes a girl just needs pie and they leave a pecan delicacy on my doorstep just to brighten my Saturday afternoon. They are thoughtful, and kind, and warm because they know that is what I really value in my peeps. And they never, ever forget my birthday (ever). In other words they are active participants in this girl’s show. Because while friendliness can be achieved with little more than a smile and good manners; being friends takes work…they don’t just hand them out like lollipops in a doctor’s office.
Only time will tell if the most recent applicant will make the transition from awkward friendliness to genuine, call-in-a-pinch friend. I hope so, but at the end of the day I don’t hand out spots on this coveted Christmas card list willy-nilly.
[...] the social experiment in whether or not I can be friends with a certain former object of my affection has come to a rapid [...]