The Friendzone

My girlfriend and co-worker who will just be named M for the purposes of this medium, always says to me, "I'm worried about you. You seem to keep putting guys into the friend-zone. It's like your defence or something."

To be honest, I have to partially agree.

While there are a few guys who make it through the gates and into the romance section, I guess it is safe to say some bypass straight to buddy.

It's funny though. I'm not a friend collector. In fact, I'm a chronic deleter of people on Facebook and my cell phone. If I don't talk to you, really don't imagine having any desire or reason to speak with you or see you again, you're deleted. Sorry, but that's the truth. (Note: if I am not keeping your endearing text messages anymore, you're toast).

However, I do have this insatiable desire to make (almost) all my exes into friends. Yes, there are a few that I'd rather never think of again, but overall the break-ups are sad - and mostly for the this-is-great-but-I-don't-think- we'd-work-married reason than anything else.

So...just because we won't get hitched does that mean we can't be....friends?
Maybe.
Probably.

As previously promised, I will get into the Michael series in later blogs, I'm just trying to figure out how to introduce the topic and in a tasteful manner. But in terms of this post, I'd be remiss not to mention Michael 2003 and Michael 2007. They were the only times I've ever NOT wanted to keep any flame alive - friend or otherwise.

With M2003, I was exhausted from the two-plus-year relationship. Constant fighting, constant crying (on his part), and terrible TERRIBLE...'playtime' (this is a public forum, I will keep this as clean as possible). When I say terrible I mean about 45 to 60 seconds...max! And if that painful minute didn't happen, I was the victim of a severe temper tantrum.

Enough said...more to come later.

When 2003 and I were finally done, we were REALLY done. Like a turkey that had been badly burned and overcooked there was no moisture left, the flesh had gone brittle and it immediately went into the garbage...no carcass left to make soup from DONE.

Michael 2007 was sweet. A liar, but sweet. I never trusted a word that came out of his mouth, but as I usually am complacent about things, I was hanging in there. I just couldn't be bothered to break up with someone at that point. I was starting to get into the thick of writing my Master's thesis and I just didn't need the headache.

Eventually weekly fights ensued and we mutually ended it.

But he said, "You've become one of my closest friends. I tell you things I don't tell anyone else." I sat there thinking "Honey, you're not the only one who tells me shit...get in line." What I actually said was, "You see...I've been you. I've wanted to be friends. But I don't need anymore friends." He encouraged me to take my time on that decision, but I knew.

Alas he still has a spot in my Facebook friend roster, but we don't communicate regularly.

It was only last week that I realized I've started to master the Friendzone though. When Bachelor March/April 2008 works constant late hours, dates are few and far between but phone-time is superb, I feel the spark that wasn't there on the first date will never ignite. He's sweet and funny, yet without umph, he's going to el f-zono (that's Spanish for Friendzone).

On top of that Michael 2006, who in a twisted way ended up being a dear friend, said to me as he kissed me and got out of my car Saturday night, "Wow! It's great to be your gay girlfriend who you make out with once in a while!"

I laughed hysterically, but truth be told - that pretty much sums me up.

I'll date you. I'll love you. I'll cry over you. And when I'm over it, I'll make you my best friend. I'll tell you all my crazy/dirty/funny/pathetic stories - romantic or otherwise - and maybe, just maybe, we'll slip up and have a little un-friendly fun.