Sorry in advance – but I did warn you…
Several months ago, out of the blue, a good friend of mine, who I have known for years and years, took it upon himself to take our relationshp onto another level. This was a complete curveball, as I had no idea that he had ever even thought of me in “that” way. After some initial hesitation on my part, I thought “why the hell not!” because truthfully, the more I thought about it, the more perfect the whole deal seemed to be. He likes me, I like him, we are very comfortable in each others company, I would trust him with my life etc, etc.
We haven’t “dated” in any formalised sense of the word, we just hang out together a lot. And, I’ll tell you the truth here, its nice. Comfortable. Safe. The trouble is, although we are more than “just good friends” I wouldn’t wouldn’t describe us as boyfriend and girlfriend. Don’t get me wrong, I’d like too, but I can’t. There is a lot of cuddling going on…but thats about it. Which is fine – I’m not a raving nymphomaniac – but its a bit confusing, and I’m starting to get really upset by it. If he has decided that he doesn’t like me “that” way, why doesn’t he say so? Why does he automatically bunk in with me rather than sleep in the spare room when he stays over (which is at least one night a week)? I don’t want to have this out with him because I really like him, and I don’t want to scare him off totally, but I wish I knew where I stand.
I don’t think I’m putting any pressure on him, at least I’m trying not to. But maybe he does feel pressurised by external forces since just about everybody we know thiks its a brilliant idea, and why didn’t we do something about it sooner etc.
My ex – the drunken, woman beating, thieving, lying, son of a bitch (who got married last August, thank you for asking) told me while we were breaking up that “nobody else will ever want you now, you’re to old, fat, ugly and used” and goddamn him, he was right. The injustice of this, has spiraled me io one of the blackest depressions of my life. He is the most outright bastard I have ever met. He spent 8 years making my life a living hell. I forgave what I could and tried to help him – he was an addict, it is an illness, and I was reared not to turn my back on a sick man. It took a long time for me to realise that he was an outright fucker, drunk or sober, and make the subsequent decision to get him out of my life. I lost friends, my dog, my dignity and if I hadn’t been too cowardly to go through with it, I would have lost my life. He has managed to move on, get treatment for his disease, meet someone new and get married within 2 years of our breakup. In the meantime my life has stood still and stagnated. I’ve been on the brink of losing everything I had, I’ve been too terrified to go out, I’ve cried, and cried and wished for death. And now, just when I thought everything was starting to work itself out, and an ideal man who respects me presents himself – I’ve managed to screw that up too.
Karmically speaking, I can’t figure out what I’ve done to deserve all this shit. I’m not a saint by any stretch of the imagination, but I’ve always tried to do the right thing, help people out where I can, because, although I don’t subscribe to a religion as such, I do believe that what goes around, comes around. Is my heartache disproportonate? Am I feeling unduly martyred by it all? Am I being utterly selfish by wanting to be happy?
This post has gone off in an unexpected direction, and I’m sorry. To get back on topic, I’ve decided not to see my friend for a while, let things die a natural death, if thats what he wants. I don’t want him to feel emotionally blackmailed into being with someone that he doesn’t want. (I probably should have pointed out earlier, 3 years ago now, when I took bastard ex from hell the last of his possessions from my house, it was actually my new friend that met him, and did the handover.)
Maybe, we were doomed before it ever began.
Apologies, once more, for a long and boring post.