A Fine Line Between Friends and...Friendlier

It’s been said a hundred times before by others of my sex, but I must state up front that men are confusing. And often bothersome. What’s bothersome is their ability to screw with my mind and emotions on a fairly regular basis. I wish I could be in better control, and not “flit about with every gust of wind,” but such is my life. The most recent of these events have centered around a man we’ll call Jamie for anonymity’s sake.

I’ve known Jamie for quite a while—-more from a distance than anything. (And yes, I immediately thought of the classic ballad, “From A Distance.” I’m only human, after all) In the past few months, however, we’ve become much better friends. Jamie’s behavior toward me, especially in late December/early January, had me firmly believing he was “diggin’ my sugar,” if you will. And yet? He didn’t ask me out. From the get go, this was hard for me to wrap my mind around. Here is a guy who would spend hours talking to me, suggest we were soul mates on more than one occasion, seek out my company at various church and friend functions…and then never offer a hint of anything more. If there was even a hint he was swinging for the other team, I'd at least have an explanation. But no. He's a firmly grounded, heterosexual man. (Oy vey...)

Two weeks ago, Jamie seemingly “dropped me like a bad habit.” One day we were buddy-buddy, and the next I felt he was avoiding me. Being the mature, level-headed woman that I am, I got irrationally angry over this behavior. WtF?! (sorry…) The anger didn’t last long, but I still felt he’d been kind of a jerk. I wanted to grab him by both shoulders, shake him really hard and say, “I don’t care if you have no interest in dating me. Please just know that this is rude. And you don't treat people like this.” I didn’t do any of that (of course! I only talk big…) but decided to move on with life because a)Nothing had really happened, and b)Nothing had really happened!

A week later (one week ago today), it was as if nothing had ever changed. Jamie sought out my company at another social function and stayed with me the entire evening. He laughed at my jokes, and did his best to make me laugh. As President Monson might say, “Laughs were shared, memories were made, and friendships were rekindled.” I guess I was okay with this sudden “turn of events” because I’d decided a couple days before that Jamie and I could be friends. “Maybe nothing more will ever come of it, but I still like him so we can be friends.” That was, and still is, my thinking.

But remember that “bothersome ability to screw with my mind and emotions” thing? Yeah. I hate that whenever Jamie is really cute or really funny I have a hard time remembering that “friends” decision I made. I hate that I wait anxiously to see if he’s going to text me back. I hate that all bursts of friendliness on his part spark a hope in me that maybe it will be different this time. “This time he’ll actually call you for a date,” my mind says. “You’d better make sure you’re free this weekend,” my sick, twisted MAKE MY LIFE MISERABLE mind says. I know he won’t call. So, why can’t my mind say that?

::SIGH:: Men are, and probably will always be, Confusing. If you have a theory, pass it along. My sick, twisted mind will eat it up—I’m sure.