So the social experiment in whether or not I can be friends with a certain former object of my affection has come to a rapid and dramatic conclusion. The verdict is in and it is a resounding “what the fuck were you thinking?” Sorry mom.
I was talking with my favorite guy in the world yesterday, the only boy who has ever truly gotten how to deal with this (circular reference towards me) mess and I was recounting how despite my best efforts to be casual, my new “friend” hurt my feelings. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He had stayed true to form and yet I had somehow thought that I was important enough, as his friend, for him to go a little out of his way. He didn’t. I was disappointed. It was like October all over again. And in the end what I concluded was I didn’t want to be his friend. I never wanted to be his friend. I wanted to date him. I had wanted to be the one he wanted to lay on the couch and listen to music and laugh with, or be the one he couldn’t wait to tell the most unbelievable thing ever to, or be who he wanted to give that soothing hug to when it feels like the world is crashing in. And when I really dug down deep I still wanted all of that. Goodbye friends. My best guy agreed.
So I told him that. I told him that I thought he was amazing (because he is in so many ways). I told him that I thought that I could get over wanting to kiss his face every time I saw him, but I couldn’t. I told him a lot of things. It was all very thoughtful and heartfelt…and then there was this:
note: these are excerpts from written correspondence so what follows is in all its verbatim glory
me: “I thought it would make my life richer if you were a part of it. But I now realize I can never go to your birthday party or after-bar party or yay, it’s Tuesday party because the idea that I would have to see you with the girl that is cool enough and patient enough and all the enoughs to become your “we” is not in my best interest.”
him: “There won’t be a we with anyone. There’s a bunch of mini-we’s that will continue until I am too old and unattractive to we.”
So.Many.Thoughts just started ricocheting around inside my head like balls in the powerball lottery drawing machine. As I read and reread his singular sentence 50 times (unfortunately on the bus…nothing like tearing up as you learn you were decidedly unspecial on LA public transportation.) I kept thinking…A bunch? A bunch? What exactly constitutes a bunch? Is it more than a gaggle, but less than a harem?
First, I mentally noted to schedule a trip to the free clinic to see what gifts my fellow “bunchers” might have given me (since it turns out my “friend” is the less forthcoming 2nd cousin of this guy), and then I asked myself why are these the guys that edge their way into my fragile and exhausted little heart?
As a survivor of the first wave of the great american divorce phenomenon, where phrases such as “step-parent”, “child support”, and “visitation privileges” were easily accessible parts of my lexicon, I am not sold on the idea of “putting a ring on it.” Some may call it prohibitively adverse (I’m a living in sin kind of gal). But even with my serious commitment reservations I don’t believe when you are spreading yourself like peanut butter on toast across a team of 25 year olds (just guessing…educatedly guessing, but guessing) you can possibly be getting anything fulfilling back. To me it sounds like what he has is a whole lot of fearful superficiality. Because it takes courage to “we”.
And as much as he is resistant to the idea, I predict he is going to continue to mini-we his way through the greater metro area (perhaps up and down the coast) until one day he finds himself laying next to someone who is all of the enoughs and he realizes he is better together with one than apart with many. I’ve seen it time and time again. It will happen long before he is too old and long before he is too unattractive. And when it does happens I’ll whisper a quiet I told you so because I firmly believe eventually, there is always a “we”.
I went through a similar situation a couple of boyfriends ago – in terms of figuring out that I couldn’t be ‘just friends’ with that person. I realized that when he cancelled, it would never be the same as another friend cancelling, it would always mean more and be more of a disappointment.
And I am with you on the whole many mini-we’s thing… Eventually, that’s got to get old, right? I mean, many we’s must mean that you have many relationships that are merely superficial – because how well can you get to know multiple people at the same time?
This comment is so not eloquent. But i get what you mean and I whole heartedly agree with you!
[...] english language…I’m a stubborn kid, but I owe someone an apology. I used the phrase “fearfully superficial” to describe personal preferences last week…and that was wrong. It was a slam on [...]