Just Friends


Gentle reader, I have been relegated to the friend zone. It’s similar to being stuck at an airport gate, forlornly clutching your $8.50 watered-down iced latte, as you watch the planes take off to destinations unknown – possibly bad, quite possibly heavenly. But still, at least they’re going somewhere. While you wait, wondering if your flight will ever be called.

It didn’t start out that way, of course. I was pursued, I was wooed, I was man-handled in many delicious ways, with praises heaped upon my eyes, my thighs, my butt and booby prize. And then, we had sex. We had sex again. We had sex a few more times. And then, [ ]. That’s right, I said [ ].

He didn’t vanish, but all the romantic accolades and sexytime antics did. Within a blink of an eye we were suddenly an old married couple at the supermarket, bickering over the price of avocados. We made dinner, we hung out. We watched a movie. I went home.

It was I who said, “I think we should just be friends,” partly in a fit of pique, partly to light a fire under his ass.

He hung his head, said something about being disappointed, but ultimately agreed.

He agreed?!? No, wait, that’s not what’s supposed to happen! Damnit!

I went into attack mode. “YOU don’t seem to be that into this…YOU act like you don’t want me…” But, he wouldn’t take the bait. He just nodded quietly and said, “you’re right, it’s probably for the best.”

Damnit!

End of story.

Right?

Nope.

He was still calling, texting, wanting to spend time together. As friends, of course. And your Ariel is a sucker for male attention. Especially when her ego has been bruised by said male. “How could he not want me?!?!?!!1111!!??” So Ariel continued to “hang out.”

I attempted to get back into his head and his bed, of course. First step? Get insanely fucking drunk. Aint nothing like watching me try to pick up barely-21 year old dudes at a dive bar (by spilling drinks on them or throwing billiard balls at their heads) to make my dude jealous (he wasn’t) and then mewl and coo about how I’m too drunk to drive, I may have to puke, I’m about to pass out, can I stay over so you can keep an eye on me?

“I’ll make sure you get home safely, Ariel.” And he did–right to my front door, got me inside, handed me a glass of water and retreated to the safety of the great outdoors.

Damnit!

Next course of action? Waterworks. I have had enough past trauma that has been resolved, thanks to therapy, but can still be conveniently triggered with a real downer of a movie. Toy Story 3 did the trick nicely. Snuffling, clutching his t-shirt, I half-whispered, “I don’t think I should be alone after watching that – I think I better stay over.”

“Not a good idea, Ariel. You probably just need a good night’s sleep in your own bed.”

Damnit!

I was considering faking an injury as my next tactic, but I realized that will probably just get me a few hours in a dirty ER waiting room and a hefty insurance bill, so I may have to scrap that idea. Or you know, just give up the entire charade and let it go. But quitting’s for quitters. And smart people. Who aren’t sadomasochists.

Damnit!

8 Comments

  1. Chappy Peaches

    July 17, 2012 at 10:45 am

    Dearest Ariel,

    I’m ever so sorry to hear the “let’s be friends” decision – especially when it’s not what you had hoped for. BUT, what if “friend” changes his mind, and decides to come back for more???!! Then what shall you do? Inquiring minds want to know!

  2. Nikki B

    July 17, 2012 at 11:12 am

    Clearly, you need to find your hottest gay BFF and have him pretend to be your new boyfriend who can’t stop pinning over you. Perhaps that will remind him what he’s missing!

    Ha. I try to be funny, really I do. But… honesty says cut the cord, sweetness. Like, cold turkey. Ironically enough, if he actually has any inclining of moving back out of Friend Land, not having you there will probs do it. If not – then you know there ain’t nothing you can do.

    Bummer, dude. And, what gives – hasn’t he met you or had a decent conversation? I don’t even know you in the real worldz and I have a crush so…

    • Ariel

      July 17, 2012 at 12:01 pm

      Oooh ladies, such divine words of wisdom! I have no idea if I can get out of this!!! Pray for me. Xoxo

  3. William

    July 17, 2012 at 9:14 pm

    Men are bad at subtle hints, clever hints, and obvious hints.

    Try a more direct approach.

  4. Ariel

    July 17, 2012 at 10:10 pm

    William Tell, pray tell, what do you mean? Tell him I want to fuck his brains out? Then I’m a fuck buddy, not sure I’m up for that booby prize…

  5. William

    July 18, 2012 at 3:09 pm

    He’s taking you at your word that you want to be just friends, and is respecting that decision. Just find a way to let him know that you’ve overturned the verdict, something a little more obvious than getting drunk, less obvious than one of those airplane ad banners.

  6. Ariel

    July 18, 2012 at 5:20 pm

    Thank you William! Much appreciated-I only hope I have the (figurative) cojones to follow thru…

  7. Pingback: Don’t Let The Door Hit You On The Way Out, 2012 | Ken & Ariel

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