A casual friend sent me a message asking, “Are you seeing the gal I’ve seen pictures of you with on Facebook?” I responded, “I guess you could say we’re frieting, pronounced, freighting.” I don’t know if this is a Lesbian thing, but I’ve sort of discovered this place in between friendship and dating, I like to call, “frieting”. (Can I have this trademarked please? You know on a hoodie with a caption that says, “We’re just frieting” Or, “I’m with my friet.” Or, “Friets don’t mate,” and “Yes, I’m single, she’s just my friet.”)
I explained this concept to another friend–a friend, friend–a show and tell version if you will. We were at lunch, I said, “Do you see how we’re sitting across from each other with no point of contact? This means we’re just friends. However, if we were dating I might be in your lap or like this,” and just then I scooted over to him pressing the side of my body into his. “But,” I said, “if we were on a friet I would do this,” as I touched my knee to his. “This would be frieting.” A little tension, but not a lot, room to either grow together, or sow apart.
Maybe it’s not a gay or straight thing, perhaps it’s just called being a grown-up. I recently had to answer some questions on the topic of love. One of them asked, “How and when do you usually decide to be in a relationship with someone?” I replied, “I don’t decide, it just sort of happens.” After going back and reviewing my answers I started thinking about these things for a while. I came to the conclusion that perhaps my methods–the laws of pheromonal attraction–for choosing partners wasn’t really the best way to go about picking people for relationship purposes. But wow, those smell-pulls–the notes that just have a secret love life of their own–are hard to ignore, especially for someone like me who is a super smeller.
(A friend said, “If someone makes my heart flutter like crazy, if the near sight of them drives me wild I heard it means I should run in the opposite direction.” For me the saying would sound like this: “if my old factory becomes so intoxicated–drawn in–by someone’s aroma that I want to sniff them all day it means I should sprint, not run away.)
I mean look. I’m almost forty years old and I can’t hold a relationship together for an extended period of time. It’s the smell thing, right? Ok, well maybe not, but it probably does have something to do with my picking stick, or my lack of measuring. Well, that might be a bit dramatic of me. I have chosen some great people, I just can’t keep them around, either by my own making or sometimes the leaving is completely out of my control. And the latter is like having to swallow–whole–a big, sour, choking-pickle.
However, I’m hoping to change my patterns by trying something different. Today I heard this great quote from Albert Einstein, while visiting, The Center For Spiritual Living Midtown in Atlanta, Ga. It said, “We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.” Just think about this for a minute.
For me this means that I have to be courageous enough to see the error of my ways. I must be open to considering something different, perhaps even uncomfortable, the unknown. Honest truth, I’m not too cozy right now. I want a soft and reeking-of sex-shoulder to cry on, I want someone else to save me from myself, but I’m not going to let that happen again. It would be so easy for me to fall into the arms of another woman, and I do occasionally but I have to pull myself back so that I make sure I’m really learning how to meet my own needs. This is my life’s lesson: Understanding, believing, and being patient with myself to know that I’m enough, that I’m lovable; and unable to be abandoned because I’m an adult now, and no adult can actually be abandoned.
For me, this isn’t a slice of pie. My default behavior is to “look” for someone to make me better, and when this becomes my motivation for finding a mate, well shit blows up quite often. I have found myself with one of the “friends’ I date” thinking, “Oh she will love me. She wants to love me the way I need to be loved, just let her,” but I don’t. I resist. However, I still allow myself to get something from her, just not everything, and when I find myself wanting to take more–of the stuff that feels good and healing–it’s a sign for me to retreat a little. I back off when I feel myself wanting to rely on her to be my comfort. It’s a push-pull.
I know I’m not ready for anything other than casual dating right now. For me it’s too hard to date seriously while my heart is still trying to heal. I want to be an adult for once. A friend said, “You should just relax and enjoy your life.” I don’t know what this means other than to live my life from a truthful place. It’s a little like living on the edge though, not that this ever bothered me much before. I could lose one of the friends I date at any time. One said to me, “You get to have your cake and eat it too.” I disagreed. I think cake is like sex. I can look at the cake and think about the cake; but not partaking of the cake, nor having other flavors of cake isn’t really enjoying cake and eating it too. (And I heart a cupcake)
So this is where I am, and I sort of like it, I’m grateful that I have mind enough to have learned some hard-lived lessons. I’m beyond letting a relationship just happen to me, I won’t be falling in love by accident anymore. No smell is going to just drift by me and render my logic useless. Is this a jaded perspective, or the use of wise judgment on my part, I don’t know?
Until I know more I’ll just continue frieting. Another friend recommended I sort of set an arbitrary anniversary date to signify the end of my morning period. I’m not certain I can just call out a calendar date and call it quits with my heart, but it may come to this if I don’t seem to be progressing. I’m trying to be patient with myself. It has been five months to the exact date that my ex-partner decided she didn’t want to work on being in a relationship with me anymore. I don’t know when it’s going to be ok for me to say, “Well, I’m ready to date-date again.” However, my fortieth birthday is four months away. I would like to spend it eating cake. So maybe I will just throw the date of May 23, 2014, out there, three weeks before my big Four-Oh, no pressure, just a maybe. If I need more time I’ll take it. For all I know it will take me a full year to get over her, or maybe two, but it will happen.
Someone keeps mentioning this thing called, “First Girlfriend Syndrome” that may have something to do with my intense feelings, or it could just be love. I’ll have to do a little research on this topic and get back to you, but for now I’ll just keep dating friends.
Bake a cake,