an alternative to ennui
I wish I could become sexless and nobody would want me. The truth is, the guys squirming in the friend zone have it tough. But what about the girls on the other end? Why are they the offenders and blamed for not reciprocating such feelings? My count is three… I think. Three guys I deemed ‘friend’ who left when I refused to open my legs.
The only difference between boyfriend and friend is that I would be physically intimate with one and not the other. Otherwise, friendship – a platonic relationship – can be just as strong as a romantic/sexual relationship. I have never had a boyfriend. I have never felt strongly towards anyone to the point of pursuing a more meaningful relationship with them. I don’t believe in getting into loveless nothings simply because that’s expected of me. I tell myself that I don’t want to be tied down. That I have more important things to think about, like my two jobs and final year of University. But really, I should just come clean and say “yes”. Yes, I would like a boyfriend. I would like to find that person I trust with all my being. Who causes me physical pain when we are apart. To kiss and share all my insecurities with. I would not feel pressured into having sex with them. I would want to have sex with them. I would love their flaws and they would love mine. There would be no awkward silences. We would become each other. I want that. I really do. I just don’t know how to find him.
I could make due with a friend. A friend who doesn’t turn on me the second I refuse to sleep with them. Who, after sharing my insecurities about relationships with, would not exploit them and make their unrequited love feel like a fault of my own. Why is it even called unrequited love? These boys don’t love me. Or maybe they do. I’ve been trying to see it from their perspective and maybe, maybe they love me. But it feels like more of an infatuation: the impenetrable girl they could add to their roster and brag to their buddies about. Sometimes I wonder why I don’t just date one of them. Fuck it – let’s try this out. Let’s pretend I love you back and we can make out, share ice cream. It will be so. much. fun. Or maybe I’m just terrified of sex. Of being bad. Of being ugly. Of being exposed – naked and vulnerable – the way I do when I type these entries.
Comments are closed.