I hate to ruin any image you might have of me, but I am not the high school harlot you thought I was. In fact, I’ve never had a single boyfriend. I’ve been going through this unfortunate awkward phase since age eight, and my life has moved so quickly since the seventh grade that I kinda-sorta still think guys have cooties. I mean, I don’t even know what I’d do with a boyfriend if I got one. I guess I could invite him over to play Burnout Paradise, in which I would pulverize him. From a separate couch.
How romantic.
But despite my lack of romantic relationship experience, I feel like I have a handle on certain relationship woes based on my experiences with regular friendships. In fact, I’ve been part of a love rectangle worthy of a horrible Jennifer Aniston rom-com for the past year.
About a month ago, I posted a fairly lengthy blog pertaining to my current best friend, Dana. Our relationship was actually a bit more complicated than I made it out to be. When we first met, we both had a different best friend. Fair enough. But as our friendship progressed, I began to realize that Dana is pretty much my soul sister, and it had nothing to do with the fact that the radio station my art teacher listened to played “Soul Sister” by Train nearly every class period. Still, I couldn’t just “dump” my old best friend. Besides, how could I know that Dana felt the same way? I couldn’t just ask. I didn’t have the huevos. So I kept my mouth shut and allowed our relationship to hover under an unknown status for a year.
Until Tuesday. Over iced lattes at a Barnes and Noble Starbucks, Dana and I simultaneously confessed that we consider the pair of us to be best friends. How sweet. At this point in my Jennifer Aniston movie, those forty-something women trapped in loveless marriages who are watching would be shouting, “I just knew they were meant to be together!”
‘Tis silly, I know. While all of this actually happened, the situation wasn’t half as heart-wrenching or dramatic as I made it sound. Those of you with boyfriends and girlfriends are probably tsking to yourselves, mentally yelling, “Real love is, like, SO much more complicated than friendship.” Maybe so, but I think I’d like to consider myself the homewrecker of a perfectly stable best friendship for awhile. So shut your hole.
If you’ve visited this site any time within the past couple weeks, you’ve probably noticed my love for blogging as been renewed. I’ve spent hours blog surfing – more time than I ever have before. While I enjoy reading blogs and giving my input, I have a problem relating with a certain type of post: the love post.
I have loved family, friends, pets, and various inanimate objects in the past, but I have never been “in love.” Since the start of high school, I’ve known that I’m never going to find a guy I can really relate to until I get to college. I’m too strange, and I’m in an overall different place than most high schoolers. It would be ignorant of me to say that there isn’t a single guy in a school of over four thousand kids that I could develop feelings for. The question is, am I willing to make the effort to find him? Hell no. My priorities lie elsewhere.
I often wonder why I don’t have that desire to find a boyfriend. According to the television and practically every female peer of mine, I should. Even My best friend, who I always thought was in the same mindset as me on the topic, made a few very awkward statements to me about how she wished a guy would like her. It’s not even like I’m completely against romance. I watch The Wedding Planner every time it’s on TBS and I enjoyed the first Twilight book before the media overexposure ruined it. I suppose my problem is that I see other couples and know that’s not what I want. I want a guy who I can grab some espresso and discuss literature with. By now, the odds of that guy popping up are much more in my favor than they were freshman year. But back then I made a promise to myself that I would always put school, work, and family first, and I plan to stick to that for the duration of high school.
Don’t interpret this the wrong way. I think it’s fantastic that the others are able to find love and choose to blog about the various triumphs and tragedies associated with it. I still enjoy reading them. The only reason I mentioned it is because I never know how to respond to those blogs. I can’t give my two cents if I don’t know what I’m talking about. Unless the person previously commented me, I typically skip them and hope I pop across the blog again some other time. I know bloggers don’t take all the advice they receive to heart, but what if they did? My apathy would be responsible for the demise of a hundred relationships. I’m not Kate Hudson. I can’t live with that.
Are there any subjects in blogs that you have a hard time responding to?
