The Friendzone

It’s not often at my age that I get to do something new.  The new thing I’m working on isn’t what I would have picked out if I had all the new things in the world to choose from but life is a bit of a crapshoot so here I am.  I have to learn how to be friends with someone I used to date.  Isn’t that about a bitch?

When I was younger I had lots of rules about who I would and wouldn’t date.  It was mostly about not going out with anyone that my friends had ever expressed interest in or dated at any point. It’s that whole “I licked it so it’s mine” thing. That still applies of course but it’s less of an issue now that most of my friends are married. I wouldn’t date anyone who had ever cheated on someone – regardless of their reason and I wouldn’t date friends.  Now that I’m divorced and a little older my rules are still pretty much the same with a few additions to satisfy my shallow side – like no tribal arm bands, no clunky, white Costco tennis shoes, no white sunglasses, no balls on your trucks’ tow hitch. You know - the basics.

If you’re half-awake as you read this you can probably guess what’s next.  I broke my own rule. I dated a friend. Initially I thought it was a grand idea. We knew a lot about each other, we were already comfortable together, had tons of mutual friends, liked a lot of the same things and clearly had interest in whatever the other side might look like so why not?

I’ll tell you why not … because if you don’t wind up with a happily ever after story it never goes back the way it was. It’s like trying to push silly string back into the can after you’ve sprayed it. The shits all over the place, it’s a sticky mess and it’s never going to go back the way it was.  Sure we said it would be fine, I think we may have even believed it at the time, but its bullshit.

We don’t talk like we did before, no more easy, side-splitting conversations. I can’t send him the funny things I see online, and he doesn’t send me the stuff he finds.  We don’t spend any time with that ton of mutual friends. If I go, he doesn’t. I can’t tell him about any of the times I see or hear something that makes me think of him…and it happens a lot. Not in a gushy, girlfriendy way, in the “hey check this out” kinda way.  No more inside jokes. No more “name that tune” sessions.               

No more friend.

Don’t get me wrong, I miss all the non-friend stuff we did too but not having my friend anymore is worse. Maybe it will go back to the way it was and maybe it won’t. It’s too soon to tell. The lesson is never date a friend. Keep em in the friend zone, keep your hands to yourself and never, EVER break your own rules.