|quote du jour:
"Love is so beautiful when everything is fine but when it ends like hers and mine, it lives and dies at least 10,000 times." -- George Strait, "Tell Me Something Bad About Tulsa"
If memory serves me correctly, I've only been to a half-dozen weddings in my 25 years. Most recently, I watched Jessie & Amanda's 78-year-old grandfather marry his 69-year-old lady friend Saturday night. They are both financially and emotionally independent. They didn't need to have to get married.
They did it for the love.
Sunday night, Jessie and I launched a deep, pre-coital conversation about us and our ability to get married. Automatically, you should see what was wrong with that conversation. It can be identified with one word... ability.
The conversation covered most of what was said in my January 16th entry. Jessie and I get along wonderfully. We're each other's best friend. We'd be better "in case of emergency people" for each other than our parents would be. I definitely believe that we'd be great partners and solid parents. Yet, we don't do any sort of official dating. Contrary to the bets in the pool, we're not engaged. I don't hear wedding bells.
Why? Because we're friends.
Of course, do you know how that when you tell a lie enough times, you start to believe the lie as the truth? Well, I'm not lying when I say that Jessie & I are friends. But I wonder that if I've repeated the party line so many times that I'm now unable to believe we could be anything else.
Jessie drove up yesterday to help me with a couple of projects and spent the night. After the television and lights were off and I was slipping away to sleep, she pulled a Fletch -- she started a deep conversation. Okay, so she merely revived Sunday night's talk, but the outpouring of feelings and the lack of sleep were all the same.
Jessie & I discussed dating seriously in August 1999, but then Lindsey came along and the subject was never given consideration afterwards. As it turns out, Jessie feels like she missed her shot at dating me. I've been told by others that such thoughts were on Jessie'e mind... but last night was the first I'd heard of it from her.
I told her that we probably do as much or more in our friendship that many dating couples do. We go out for dinner and a movie. We order out for pizza, curl up on the couch and I fall asleep with my head in her lap. We've spent many a Sunday morning on the couch reading the paper, enjoying each other's company without saying a word.
If that was dating, she said, we could have called it dating and she would have done more. She would have been affectionate. She would have put forth more effort to woo me. I rebutted by saying that dating is merely a label and affection is but an action -- it really boils down to chemistry.
Of course, that's not to say that Jessie & I don't have chemistry. It's just that I've never considered it to be the right kind. But, the great question is... Who am I to know? And if I don't know, shouldn't that mean it's not the right kind? Is there a right kind? Doesn't everyone get the right kind or should some of us have to settle?
Okay, so that was several great questions. Sorry about that.
"More than anything," I told Jessie, "I value our friendship." I followed that up by wondering aloud what it would be like to just be friends and to eliminate any physicalities. My saying that is probably where the trouble started.
It's just that if I have any sort of physical relationship with someone other than Jessie, I feel trapped in a decision with two impossible choices. I can keep it from Jessie and wait for her to be upset when she finds out... Or, I can tell her as soon as it happens and upset her then. Either way, she's upset. I'm tired of upsetting my best friend.
I feel as though the physical side of our friendship has turned into a separate relationship of its own. She'd like total monagomy. I understand her position, but our friendship is more of a "friends with benefits" type of arrangement. I'm young and single. I want to date people and I want the option to be intimate with them without having to worry about how upset Jessie will be.
She cried a bit during that part of our conversation. She said that she didn't see our arrangement the same as I. But, as I've said before, we often fall on opposite sides in the perspective department. She said that she felt tinges of rejection in my suggestion we not be physical. She told me of the fears she has of losing me to someone else.
I did my best to set her straight. I tried to convince her that her fears are unfounded. Of course, I think I failed but I was facing a tough task. Her fears come not from the mind but from the heart. It's damn near impossible to be rational with the heart.
I talked with Jessie this afternoon on the phone. She still sounds upset.
I think I've done it again. She's back into a dark funk and I feel like it's my fault. For a while now, she's been sorting through some serious shit and her mood tends to get heavy. I understand that as I went through plenty of those moods in college. The problem is that we really don't see life the same and so I sometimes have trouble relating specifically.
I just know that I want the happy Jessie back. If I could flip a switch, I would. I've tried support and rational conversations in the past with minimal success. I feel that when she slips away like this, she slips just beyond my reach. It's heartbreaking and frustrating at the same time.
It also scares me that she usually gets upset directly after I say or do something. She found out about my week with Natalie and was upset. I told her that I was dating Christy and she was upset. When she found condoms and discovered that I was sleeping with Christy, she was upset. When I got drunk and went home with some girl, she was upset. And now that I want just a bit of freedom, to avoid her being upset, she gets upset.
What does that mean? I honestly hope that her happiness is not based on my not fucking up... After all, I am my father's son. Thinking I won't fuck up at least a little bit is not a solid foundation upon which to build anything. Besides, I want to add to a person's happiness... not be a requirement for them to be happy. That's no way to live life and I don't I can handle that sort of responsibility.
Copyright © 2003, Thomas Fletcher. All Rights Reserved.