Tag Archives: men

The First Time I Saw a Boyfriend in my Best Friend

One of my best friends is a boy.

I have been told that in any friendship between a girl and boy the relationship reaches a fork and there are two options. The friendship route, where you become the best of friends and you confide in each other and it almost becomes like the brother you never had or the one you always wished you had. Or you can choose the romantic route where your friendship becomes the foundation of a wonderful relationship. Once you choose a route that is it. There is no turning back. Because the friendship road, once taken, becomes tangled up with such indepth knowledge of one another and they become so valuable to you as the person that you share everything with that if you chose to throw sex into the mix you know that it could ruin possibly the best thing ever in your life. So you stay on the friendship road because you never want to lose your best friend.

Now if you take the relationship road then you run the risk of it going horribly wrong and being damaged by this person. You also run the risk of being wonderfully happy. It’s a risky road, but it could lead to such happiness. It could also result in such immense pain AND you may have lost out on a friend as well. Because, lets face it, it is almost impossible to be friends after a break up. I don’t care what people say, I have yet to be friends with an ex. It hurts too much. I especially do not want to deal with them moving on and listening to all the stories about the other person.

Often the decision is made without you really having a choice in the matter. It just sort of happens and then you find yourself with a best friend. He becomes your person. Your closest friend. The guy you call when everything is going wonderfully. The person you call when your world is crumbling around you. He tells you the truth and sometimes it makes you cry, but mostly it’s what you need to hear.

He makes it very clear when he doesn’t like what you have done or who you have done. And you tell him the same. You know each other almost inside out and for all intents and purposes you are in a relationship. To the outside world you are a couple, to the strangers who see you together every day doing normal everyday things you are a unit. Even to your close friends you become a unit and if only one of you rocks up to a function the inevitable question is: “Where is so and so?” and you can respond because you know. Because you know most things about that person.

Here is the tricky part. How do you stop yourself from wondering why there isn’t more. Why he only wants to be friends. Why he cant be more than your friend. Why he cant be your friend and your lover. You see him make mistake after mistake with women. You are perfect for him, but he cant see it. You are relegated to the friendship realm and are doomed to stay there for eternity. Is it doom? It feels like doom sometimes. Because sometimes, when you feel lonely, you want more than just a hug. But the thought of losing him feels like the greater doom.

As much as I want for this to be more, I never want to imagine a life without him. So I talk to him about the guys I am interested in and I listen to his girl woes and I give him advice and because I know him and I know his faults I can tell him where he is going wrong and I can encourage or discourage certain behaviour. It hurts to do this. But it is worth it.

We took the friendship road. I hope we grow old together walking this road. Every road has it’s pot holes and slippery sections. But our road also has an amazing view, the scenery far outweighs the discomfort. So I will keep walking it and hope that I find a man who is as wonderful as my best friend.

About these ads

6 Comments

Filed under Friendship, love

The First Time I Confronted the Idea of Prostitution

B pushed the boundaries of society and he pushed me to confront my conceptions, my principles and what I really believe. I can describe the things he did as rebellious, dark and scarring; but that’s because it is my severely subjective opinion. It is difficult to face the reality of someone’s past life, even though it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with him.

He told me that he had slept with prostitutes during a time of depression. I could only keep silent. What do you say in reply to that kind of confession? Can you really be okay with it, when the reality just seems so far beyond your understanding of the matter? In those quiet, disturbing moments that occur at 4am when you wake from a battered sleep, I had to examine my conscience. The concept of this, the effect on my own relationship, has left me with too many questions that I cannot answer. Can I really accept that there are prostitutes, to the point where I condone it for so many reasons, but not accept that someone in my life can actually have sex with one?

Image from imgfave.com

I have always considered myself a liberal. I have a vast itinerary of “acceptable” behaviour, even though I would not engage in some of the activities. Nevertheless, I always choose to understand better first, before I make any kind of judgement. But after B’s confession I really struggled not to feel angry and fearful. I tried to justify it from a societal perspective. I told myself that if I face the facts, many men, married or otherwise, have sex with prostitutes. From a liberal’s perspective, these women and men have the right to engage in these actions.

Yet I felt angry, because I had thought him strong, and now I believed him weak. I felt that he had sullied and dirtied himself. I could not even bring myself to imagine the act, as it made me feel like I was going to throw up. I felt angry because men justify this type of behaviour all the time. I felt scared because I wondered if, and when, he would do it again. Mostly, I felt angry because I shouldn’t be thinking this way. How could I be so hypocritical; how could I feel a combination of intrigue and acceptance one minute, and the next hate prostitutes for existing?

When he told me of this, and of other things that he had done, I had to laugh with him; to save both of us from my shock and pain. I had to grow up, open my mind as wide as it could possibly go, or leave him. Knowing what I learnt, I chose to love him instead. I cannot understand why, except that maybe I felt like I needed to protect him, put an end to his masochistic actions and save him from himself.

There is this scene in the movie “Meet Joe Black” where Joe is talking to this guy about love. This guy says that his wife has seen him at his very worst, and yet still loves him. This concept of love rang true with me at that moment, because it made me realise that, if I could fully accept his behaviour, and love him despite and because of the things he had done, that was what it would be like to love the complete person. I, perhaps naively, believed that it would be a purer, truer kind of love. I never got to test my theory though; he broke up with me.

I no longer need to confront the idea of a man in my life sleeping with a prostitute, yet this has not stopped me from trying to learn something from this past relationship. What B made me see was that we can never know how we will react to something, and how we will feel, until it happens to us. It is so easy to be the armchair critic, dispensing advice to our friends about what they should do, or making judgements on things that happen in life.

We can label ourselves anything we like and believe something of ourselves, but when something hurts us, we can really surprise ourselves by how we react to that pain. It is a simple process to be objective when the pain is not happening to you. Now that we have broken up, I realise that I still have no idea how I really feel about his behaviour, but if I look really deep within me, I can see that I was not really coping. Having sex with prostitutes points to darkness, a weakness, and I cannot respect someone who behaves like that.

Leave a Comment

Filed under Freedom, Relationships, Sexual Experimentation