Friday, 27 October 2006

One down...

I came back from my holiday to find an email from my possibly best male friend JR (he tops the "All the men I've never slept with" list and is as such extremely dear to me).

Originally uploaded by sato sugar.
It contained only six words: "So I am engaged to [insert middle-class English girls name here]".

The horror. I know he doesn't love her. He just turned 27 and she is his first live-in girlfriend. I don't know how this can be. Did she propose to him, or he to her? Have they set a date yet? Is this the point of no return? Can I be a bridesmaid (I know at least the answer to that last question; a resounding NO! as the bride detests me)?

Or am I just being jealous and small-minded, wanting him all to myself?

I don't know.

But for some reason that email reads more like a cry for help than a cause for celebration.

I love JR dearly. We haven't seen each other very much lately, both busy in new jobs and me with J. But for some reason his email hit me like a hammer.

Maybe it's because he's the first man that I've loved who's chosen to get married to someone else.

Maybe it makes me feel anxious because J doesn't want to get married to me and I've subconsciously seen JR as a fallback position (one can never have too many fallback positions).

Or maybe there really is something wrong; I'm really worried there is something wrong, that he doesn't want to but has somehow been talked into it. Two years ago he broke up with her (for a pathetic 6 hours, but still) and as recently as two months ago he was still debating whether he actually wanted to stay with her at all.

They have been together for ages now; almost five years, and I can see that it was make it or break it time, especially for her as she's a little older and is probably thinking babies etc.

But most of all I think it is my fear of closed doors which makes me feel so intensely uneasy.

The only place in which I like closed doors is in my living room to keep it warm.

Having to choose in a way which means the closure of other options really freaks me out.

And I really need to overcome that, put down some roots, close some doors and stop thinking about what I could possibly have if only things were different.

I had hoped that this obsession would stop once I was happily living with someone I love (which I do), but it hasn't; every day I fight the urge to up and leave and look for something which might not be better, but which seems more interesting because I haven't tried it yet.

JR, I vow here in my blog to be happy for you, and, if [insert middle-class English girls name here] allows it, to be at your wedding and shed a happy tear as you walk down the isle. Because if my heart is still breaking by that point, you would be able to tell.

Still. I want you to know that when you get divorced at 47 and haven't spoken to me in decades, I will still be here so we can get drunk on cheap red wine and talk about how wonderful our lives will be when we grow up.

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