friendom

i'm doing it again. and i am going to stop it this time. i have to.

my whole life i follow a pattern. a curse. a lie. i vividly remember the first time it happened. i was 5.

i meet man/boy. i am amused/charmed/interested but immediately know it is platonic. the first impression of the asexual.

what was a random acquaintence becomes a friend. someone outside my mess. a breath of fresh air.

a friend becomes closer. people joke about how much time is spent together and we both ignore the insuations and laugh with the flippant comments of friends. but its nice to have that even.

somewhere in the joking things get awkward, and we get over it (it usally takes me awhile to not feel scrutinized and you not to feel judged). we maybe even take a step back to assess and readjust to this post-weirdness phase.

and a little part of me is always disappointed.

not that it didn't become love. not that i didn't suddenly wake up and realize this was forever (and equally important, that i want to jump their bones). but that it's the beginning of the end.

that the culitvated intimacy i have so enjoyed isn't going to be enough for you soon.

i can't deny it wasn't like dating without the date. it was all the good bits and none of the mess. it was the niceness and honesty.

and somehow soon it will be wrong of me to want that.

one day, or perhaps phased over weeks, you'll realize you'd rather have someone you can fuck. and i'll slowly fade into the background as nice girls fill my slot for your time and your chat and your lost moments - with the added attaction of sex.

i don't blame them. it's how it works. i wasn't the one (i didn't want to be, but it somehow stings all the same). its okay though. you'll be happier in love. i probably will someday too.

but i really wish there was a man i could be friends with (and not resent it like a girlfriend when he leaves me).

there is no ever after for friends.