So, what was this morning all about?
Well, in a nutshell, I had a meeting, I had a thought, and I gave a Cliff Notes version of what I’d eventually write about later…that later being now.
And to reiterate---no reading into my life on this one. Yea, such things have happened to me as I’ll talk about, but it’s not some veiled attempt to work through something that happened Monday or something like that.
I brought it up mostly due to the fact that, to me, having something unwittingly flaunted in your face is one of the worst things that can happen from you. Short of, like, you know, being mauled by a tiger. Or getting chlymidia. OK, there’s a lot of things worse. But we’re talking “worst of the stuff that in the end amounts to a basic hill of beans considering there are people starving in the world, etc”.
The flaunting, in this case, is usually not intended as such. The person just really wants to tell you about someone they like, or kissed, or handcuffed to a bedpost and made them scream for bloody mercy, and isn’t that so great? And you smile, and you try to act all cool, but your inner monologue is along the lines of, “Hulk Smash!”
Another variation of this:
Girl: Why can't I just find a guy like you?
Guy: (inner monologue) I am a guy like me!!!
The person will have two reasons for telling you such information. One, they think you have that “I wanna be more than friends look” and they stave you off the path without actually giving you the “Gee, that’s great, but…” speech which is never fun. Two, the issue at hand here today, is that they consider you “safe” and as such, out of the realm of possibility of it ever being more than “aw shucks” friends.
Nothing wrong with “aw shucks”. I got plenty of those. But most of them I’m “aw shucks” right back. The disconnect can be jarring if you’re thinking of something more than pals and the other person clearly 1) has no clue you feel that way, and, as such, 2) say things so bluntly and apparently callously that it can be hard to stomach.
Now, of course, it’s proportionally jarring as to how different you two view each other. It’s one thing to think, “Hmmm…I guess someday I wouldn’t mind licking that person,” and another to think, “How can I manufacture a way to get on bended knee before her and sing my composed sonnet?” Either way, it’s not much fun.
In the case of the former, there is such a thing as, “Just shout your mouth, mate.” Pick a time and place. All of us have had unrequited crushes that no one, least of all the object, knows/knew about. And sometimes the actions of the object quell your crush before it’s had time to reach the size of a peanut in your gut. The latter, however, whoa baby. Something’s gotta be done.
Now, what to do to rectify the situation? Ah, well, therein lies the problem. As per usual, there’s no handy manual to work your way through this. If you’re a good actor, you can steel yourself up on the spot, play it out, go home, throw on some Coldplay, sing along at the top of your lungs, and be done with the primal part of it. You can keep talking to the person, analyzing why you shouldn’t have cared in the first place about lickage, and steer clear of any stories involving edible clothing with that person.
If you’re not such a good actor, you can fumble through some scene from a John Hughes film and play the Ducky to the Andie and act like a schmuck and make both of you feel uncomfortable. Always a pleasant scene. The See-Saw Theory is in effect and shoots one of you into the next playground, which is filled with a mixture of manure and broken glass. Totally. Awesome.
After all, if you just start blabbering right away, then you’ve got two people who now feel bad. And it’s a tough position for the person who didn’t know of your affection, obviously. They think of the stuff they were telling you, and also feel bad that they can’t necessarily return affection.
But hey, it’s not their fault. And those “rejected” know this, on a pretty basic level, unless they turn super spiteful, go heel on the person they liked five minutes ago, and smash them in the head with a steel chair. (And if this sounds like good advice, remember, it’s super lame and a felony, so don’t.) So now you’ve got a situation where two people are hurt and no one actually did anything wrong.
And maybe this is why it’s so tough to get through these moments/scenes/nights. We deal very well with black and white. Here, we’ve got a lot of gray going on and we don’t know how to react. So, as such, we often try to push it towards one end of the spectrum. “I screwed up.” “He led me on.” “She had to know!” So forth and so on. Blaming ourselves, blaming each other.
In the end, though, it’s just unfortunate. That’s all. Unfortunate for at least one, often two of you. Not usually for long, though, as long as some basic form of maturity exists betwixt the two of you. You part, you go home, you have a beer, you get up the next day, and go to work. It happens. You hang out again, and it’s bit awkward, but the next time is better, and the time after that, better still. A few months later you can joke about it. (Just don’t joke after either of you have had tequila, cuz that can lead to places you just don’t wanna go to.)
People get crushes; they especially get crushes on friends. Part of the process. If you didn’t find things about them attractive, you wouldn’t be their friend in the first place. Not the end of the world if one night stuff gets revealed and then backfires. Beats six months of hearing stories about the object of your affection’s nightly romps in the sack. Just not good for either of you.
So yea. My rambled thoughts on the matter. Tada, tra la la, and all those good things.