Friends forever

“… you start talking about puppy dogs and ice cream and of course it’s going to end up on the friendship tip.”

This is my thinking. Do men need women to be a sufficient distance away from themselves in order to appreciate them? By distance I don’t mean metres or miles, I mean distance from their interests and their behaviours. Maybe the men I care for have an image in their lizard brains of a pristine, ultra-feminine woman and they can’t help think back to that when confronted with something outside the norm i.e. my good self.

We are brought up to believe that men and women think differently and to a certain extent that is true, but I would say we it’s down to us prioritising differently for a variety of cultural and biological reasons. However, we’ve all got brains with needs and desires, and I don’t think at our cores we are very different. We all want to be cared for and all have a nuturing/protective streak within no matter what our sex; it just manifests in different ways. The prioritising again.

I never feel suficiently culturally feminine in my thinking, actions or appearance to be sufficiently different. Does my unexpected behaviour mean that potential partners are thrown because I am too much like them? Of course, they all love the girl who can be ‘one of the guys’ but I think thats just the age old wife in the kitchen, whore in the bedroom scenario.

Am I never anything but a friend because I am too intimate with them? I am not feminine enough? I don’t behave in the expected ways women are supposed to and am not interested in finding the perfect eyeshadow?

The whole iceberg label bothers me too. I figure that if I had someone who would tell me that they cared and that they’d stand by me like I would stand by them, I would open up. I think that there will always be a part of me that stays closed but on thinking about it- isn’t that the same for everyone? No matter how intimate you are with a partner, you are not one person, you will always have a private side as otherwise you would lose your mind.

The men I care/have cared for usually discuss their relationships with me, we talk and I proffer opinions; inside however, I am reigning myself in and pretending everything’s just peachy. I sit in their houses and in bars with them and I laugh whilst behind the comedic banter sometimes I feel like I’ve been kicked in the chest. Maybe it’s down to friendship? My men have always seen me as unthreatening because I listen and care and don’t make with the expected sexual behaviour?

Whenever it’s the choice between me and another woman I am always passed over or am always the bit-on-the-side there to provide what their girlfriends can’t (intellegence, commitment-free sex, a bed for the night, etc) … only for the male to then go on about how their relationship is unsatisfying and how “I need to find someone like you” who would be much more suitable.

But thats it, isn’t it? They never actually want me, just some fantasy mash-up. The Monster’s “I’m not ready for a relationship with you… it’d be too perfect and I don’t think I could handle it…” or Mid Atlantic’s “I think I could be in a relationship with you, but I don’t want to ruin what we’ve got…” I call SHENANIGANS

Some men tell me how much they like aspects of my personality and my body, but then their behaviour completely nullifies anything they say, no matter how much I want to believe. If I talk about commitment, I sure as hell don’t mean marriage- I just mean plain and simple care and loyalty; being partners means you are in partnership after all.

Mid Atlantic was very kind towards me but proceeded to break my heart through a simple lie… The Monster used me for years and I now class our relationship as an emotionally abusive one… MW#1 is of course fantastic… he treats me with consideration and kindness, but i’m unsure whether he’ll ever consider me as anything other “than just another friend”, no matter how much I hope (just another notch in the bedpost)… I simply care too much. It’s not like I enjoy torturing myself either…

I’m rambling. I just have this idea that I will forever be left on the sidelines and it’s stuck in my head. Eugh.

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