If you choose to move slowly you risk becoming a life long
inhabitant of the “friend zone.” Neither of you has the courage to make a move
and one, or both, of you are afraid to mess up a friendship. You are convinced
that the feelings you feel are in a vacuum and that the other person must not
feel anything for you, while secretly hoping that they will someday surprise
you and confess their feelings for you, but these hopes are in vain because
neither of you would ever be willing to bite the bullet and risk losing a
person you care about due to a failed romantic endeavor. You move too slow –
and neither person takes the lead, you fail.
If you choose to move more quickly on a whim, perhaps due to
overwhelming physical desires or a situation where time together is limited,
you face a whole other situation wherein the relationship is likely doomed
before it can even begin. A person no longer respects you. You are an object to
be desired and conquered, not one to be loved and cherished. After the encounter they likely pretend it never
happened and that you mean nothing and, in order to protect yourself, you do
the same. The relationship will never progress without one person insisting
that connection continues and if neither does, the potential relationship never had legs to begin with, you fail.
My most recent encounter leaves me in a quandary, to say the least. One of my favorite avenues to meet people - since we've already established that I loathe online dating - is "friend of a friend." It just works. You know someone who knows someone and can vouch for the fact that the person is at least half-way decent and will (hopefully) not disappear. If they do disappear, you have someone connected to them, even if just loosely connected, to whom you can say, "what the heck, yo?!" So, if you can't tell already, I met a friend of a friend recently, but that entire situation is complicated and seems to get more complicated as time goes on.
As perhaps a positive, or perhaps a negative, something happened that made us revisit the time we spent together after the fact. No, it was no emergency or problematic situation for me, but rather I found myself worrying about him. My worry about his situation began to cause me additional stress and uneasiness that would only be relieved after knowing that he was alright (yes, I know all of this seems convoluted and weird, but just believe me). So, I contacted him via text, though I would have preferred to call, I didn't know where our conversation would lead or if he was ready to have an open and honest conversation with me.
The good news is, I think he actually really appreciated me reaching out to him. I can barely imagine what he's dealing with, but the fact that he is open and honest is really the first step to him getting the appropriate help and building a network of support amongst his friends and family. Still, the downer to this whole situation is that I still wonder if he really respects me as a woman. I said he should let me know the next time he's around the area I got nothing back, meaning he appreciates my help and my sentiments, but isn't interested in anything more.
I have to know that I am the one who placed myself into this predicament. I don't regret it. Who knows, perhaps I misread everything and he may decide to reach out in the future. Regardless, I wish time and space had afforded something more than a couple days of fun with an outcome unknown.
My most recent encounter leaves me in a quandary, to say the least. One of my favorite avenues to meet people - since we've already established that I loathe online dating - is "friend of a friend." It just works. You know someone who knows someone and can vouch for the fact that the person is at least half-way decent and will (hopefully) not disappear. If they do disappear, you have someone connected to them, even if just loosely connected, to whom you can say, "what the heck, yo?!" So, if you can't tell already, I met a friend of a friend recently, but that entire situation is complicated and seems to get more complicated as time goes on.
As perhaps a positive, or perhaps a negative, something happened that made us revisit the time we spent together after the fact. No, it was no emergency or problematic situation for me, but rather I found myself worrying about him. My worry about his situation began to cause me additional stress and uneasiness that would only be relieved after knowing that he was alright (yes, I know all of this seems convoluted and weird, but just believe me). So, I contacted him via text, though I would have preferred to call, I didn't know where our conversation would lead or if he was ready to have an open and honest conversation with me.
The good news is, I think he actually really appreciated me reaching out to him. I can barely imagine what he's dealing with, but the fact that he is open and honest is really the first step to him getting the appropriate help and building a network of support amongst his friends and family. Still, the downer to this whole situation is that I still wonder if he really respects me as a woman. I said he should let me know the next time he's around the area I got nothing back, meaning he appreciates my help and my sentiments, but isn't interested in anything more.
I have to know that I am the one who placed myself into this predicament. I don't regret it. Who knows, perhaps I misread everything and he may decide to reach out in the future. Regardless, I wish time and space had afforded something more than a couple days of fun with an outcome unknown.
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