Just Sunday, my best male friend and I met for drinks and to watch Sunday’s football game. I’m not one for football. And even though I’m not new to the dating world at 28, I’m still not well-versed on what goes on in a football game. Some say that’s a shame. If my mate is into football, I much rather whip up wings for my beau and let that him BE … alone with his football. That’s not my game. And furthermore, it wasn’t the reason why I chose to make a B-line for the bar to meet my best male friend on this past Sunday. The focus was on him, not the game.
You see for the past few weeks, we’ve been hanging out really tough, a few times a week. While I’m intrigued with our conversation as I’ve been over the past seven years and he’s easy on the eyes, I’ve been far more consumed about his transformations.
All these years, I’ve been the wing-man. When it’s just us, I’m the girl about town with him. We’ll hit up a few our favorite spots including Hickory Tavern and Wine Vault, and we talk each other’s heads off–about astrology, conspiracy theories, love, sex, and more. I admonish him for his ways; he scrutinizes me on my maneating dating methods. We might chat about business ventures and the like, and then we’re on our merry way … ‘until next time.’
All these years, I’ve been the boys’ bait, and I don’t mind it one bit. One pretty attractive lady attracts other attractive women. This is a proven tactic; men like to hunt. I watch the boys as they do ‘work,’ and then I’m probably peacin’ out early. No, they don’t ever ask: “Are you going to be our bait tonight?” But naturally, withing the forces of nature, that’s what happens. Women come over to talk to me or talk to them (competition), and they have at it. All the while I enjoy myself and take notes. Some women may criticize me for this ‘bait’ position, but I didn’t make this world, I just live in it.
These past years, I’ve also been a small sample of the female perspective. I’ve heard every piece of ratchedness there’s to hear. I cannot mention any of that here. But I do my womanly, sisterly duty to try to save some relationships and decrease the probability of infidelity. All I can do is root for the home team and be a friend, yet not in that order.
I’m quite often mistaken as his girlfriend. You know that scene in Brown Sugar when Sanaa Lathan’s character is like “Puhhh-lease.” Yes that’s me. “I’m not with this negro.” Standbyers and passerbyers can’t seem to just walk on without noting aloud “that you two are quite the couple.” We just have that chemistry. But we’re just friends.
I’m not the girlfriend or the current fiance. “Lawdhavemercy, thankya Jesus.” I’m the best friend who has NOT been invited to the wedding next month, and that’s where the problem lies. I’ve been on, off, on, off, maybe, then officially OFF… the list of invited wedding guests. This is some bull—!
I bet you’ve got questions now. Let me see if I an clearly answer them all!
What is my relationship with his fiance might you ask?–Rocky, and that’s on a good day! In 2009, over dinner, I admitted to her that I told my boyfriend at the time that I’m not giving up my friendship with my bmf for him. That started all kinds of hellfire in my home. And that didn’t maul over too well with her either. She said: I’d let any one of my friends go for him if he asked.” And my bmf doesn’t ask her because frankly she has very few friends. I won’t go any further with that one!
Why does she not want me at their wedding?–From the conversations we’ve had I gathered, from the horse’s mouth, that she senses that we have feelings for each other, and she fears that I’ll object their nuptials mid-ceremony. Last week, I tweeted that ‘folks are too proud to object anyone’s nuptials’ especially when there’s a strong possibility of him/her getting their ass beat by a team of bridesmaids. I’m way too cute for these shenanigans. And she’s a criminal lawyer, so that’s a strike against me right there. I don’t need a record. I’m good on tragedies. So again, an objection isn’t in the plans.
Besides, she deserves him; she’s paid her dues. But on the other hand, I had to ask him seriously if he is ready to get married … to her? I asked for good reasons. And let’s just say I’m not the only asking either!
All that I will say is … I better not … go there.
Yes, it’s quite disheartening to see him transform and prepare for a wedding since I will not be in attendance. He’s stuck on his obligation (my words, not his) which I believe isn’t a good one. Any blind man can see …
Oh one more thing because I know my followers are curious if we’ve had sex before. Seven years and two attractive mofos hanging out is supposedly a recipe for hot, steamy sex. But it isn’t always. We haven’t, and I’m thankful that I can state that truthfully ’til this day. Our other purposes for each other outweigh sexual attraction. So there! In your face! I’m no home-wrecker, side-chick, etc as some beady little heads may want to reduce my position down to. Life is far more complicated, and platonic relationships can serve as allies on any front. I suggest you get one if you don’t have one already.
Some of this is HIS FAULT. Unbeknownst to me, I’ve been an alibi and they have conversations about me that probably should’ve never happened. He’s pretty bold at the mouth, so I disagree with some things he’s said to her concerning me.
Moreover the way he wears his smile and resorts to retreats, I can tell that these are the last days of our friendship … and that, in itself, might bring about a storm of sadness because I had not prepared for our once-upon-a-time friendship. It had never been in question.
Real life, real people, real things. Have at my comments box.