WHAT A WHINER.

An article in today's Salon.com asks Since you asked. . . 's Cary Tennis about being in love with a best friend: (Log in as a Premium member Day Pass, if you'd like to read it in it's entirety; my apologies to salon.com for reprinting)

Dear Cary,

How do you suggest "curing" yourself of being madly, completely and obsessively in love with one of your best friends, with whom there's absolutely no chance that it will move beyond anything but friendship?

I'm a gay man, and almost two years ago, my boyfriend of five years suddenly dumped me, proclaiming his newfound heterosexuality; he was in love with one of our mutual, female friends. They have since gone on to have a wonderful relationship and are now expecting their first child. This threw me into a tailspin. I was devastated and no longer speak to either one of them. But in the last two years, I've managed to somewhat make my peace with the situation and have started to forgive them both. But herein lies the problem.

Around the same time as the breaking-up trauma, I made a new friend through another friend I already had. Despite the fact that he was "straight" and had a girlfriend, he was very flirtatious, touchy, sensitive and very, very attentive. I began to get "signals," and I started imagining scenarios of him rescuing me from my pain and bewilderment. After several months, I could no longer take it and broke down to him in the middle of a restaurant during dinner, confessing that I was in love with him and knew that he had feelings for me as well, and I was very curious as to what was going to happen. He was shocked. He had no idea he had sent me mixed signals and was heartbroken that he had unintentionally led me on. In retrospect, I realize that this is just his personality, and he treats all of his male friends this way.


We have continued to remain friends since then, and have grown extremely close, but the problem is that my feelings still remain and are stronger than ever. I've tried dating other people, but no one (no matter how great a person they are) can measure up to him. He's everything I've ever wanted in a lifelong partner, and being around him brings me such joy and hope, but also makes me extremely depressed. At this point, he is much more of a hindrance in moving on from my failed relationship than my ex-boyfriend ever was.

I've tried distancing myself, but he and I are both totally wrapped up in the same social group. Besides that, I don't want to. I would still prefer him in my life as a friend than not at all, but his friendship keeps me from moving on. This has been torturing me for nearly two years now, and I'm starting to think I'm using it as a "crutch" or an excuse to not get close to people that could hurt me again. I'm sure this is probably a fairly textbook situation, and I would love to hear your thoughts on it.

Straight Chaser

Cary's response, prefaced by a lame attempt to be Mr. Blue (Sorry, you're no Garrison Keillor), is to "break up" with the friend.

My response:

Get over yourself. You're not the first person who this has happened to, regardless of your sexual orientation (or your friend's). I think everyone's had a little crush on a friend at one time or another. And the idea that you're comparing the people you date to this friend? I know that there are different qualities of many of my closest friends that I also look for in a romantic companion. Our friends make us feel special, and it would be silly not to search for that same special feeling with a lover. But to discount all the people you date because they're not your fantasy of "the one?" Do you really think that if you could date this friend, that the experience would be anything like the one you've already envisioned? Doubtful. You'd just end up resenting him because he didn't measure up to your dream of a romantic encounter.

Granted, the fact that your former boyfriend (I'd assume he's your first homosexual relationship) decided that he was more bisexual then homosexual, and is married with child could be considered a little traumatic. But if anything, you'd think that experience would lead you to try to stray away from (yet another absurd fantasy) of "turning a straight boy gay." You already know first hand that a person's sexual identity isn't necessarily static, but fluid.

You are the stereotypical whiny fag who's always alone that noone can stand to be around, yet feel bad if they ignore you. Go die alone in the rain, already.

*WHOMP*

And now that I've jumped off my soapbox for the day, I'm off to shower, head (back) to work, and work a double shift. Adieu, dear readers!