Moment of Naked Clarity 0.2 - Can we just be friends?

Moment of Naked Clarity 0.2  Can we just be friends? by Cyril T. T. Makwembere

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 There is a sixth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as cable TV and as timeless as The Simpsons. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, 1.6 millimeters to the right of your single lever shower faucet and it lies between the pit of man's fear of rejection and the summit of his knowledge concerning relationships. This is the dimension of overactive imagination. It is an area which we call the Friend Zone.

   Over time it’s become a long-running hit show, comprising of a series of stories containing drama, psychological drama, psychological thriller, psychological fantasy, psychological science fiction, psychological suspense and/or psychological horror, often concluding with a macabre or fairly expectable twist.

   I’ll state from the onset that I’m not a qualified counselor, life coach, or reclusive Jedi master, and that I have NO tangible relationship experience by way of successfully pairing with someone/a human body/fruit. To date my columns read no wins, a couple losses and one draw (explanation pending). A pathetic match record at can age 23 - I’ll admit - but not everyone can top the league unfortunately. There exists a faction of people who support the idea that a lower league of love exists where nonperforming Premier League hopefuls can get relegated to at a moment’s notice.

Currently seeking sponsorship from Coca-Cola(TM)

   Does the Friend Zone exist? Attitudes across the interweb differ on this, with online threads hosting participants that lock horns over the question like angry bulls stricken with acute glaucoma. I’m not trying to disregard all the valid/invalid points people have made before, but ask me, and I’d have to say yes. The Friend Zone does exist.

“How dare you bring an opinion to the Internet! Prepare for war!”

   Now I’m not here to preach. I just want to open up the thinking concerning a topic that took up a significant corner of my life for a while. I want to use what little I have scraped through to help fellow friendzonees (and possibly friendzoners) muscle through and survive the Relationship Royal Rumbles of their lives. I will try give some perspective on where I’m coming from by sharing the highlight reel of my Monday Night Raw appearances thus far.

“Tonight on Raw: CeroNegative (with Manager Len Vino XL) defends the Wuss With Emotions Championship against The Feels Show.”

   I’ve always been the perennial ‘Nice Guy’. I never bragged about it, but I wore it like a chip on my shoulder. If things hadn’t changed inside me somewhat over time I’d probably deny it now, a lot like the way your folks deny their rabid following of rock ‘n roll hair bands back in the 80s. Due to a mix of hormone tidal shifts through puberty, bad interpersonal skills and an early onset fascination with the inner-workings of the adult entertainment industry, I have never been “attractive”. I’m not a Batman villain or anything, I think as far as looks go I’m “so-so”. But we know better than to judge a book by its promotional blurb from the Sunday Times editor. I count four significant occasions where I have had feelings for someone. I will paraphrase each event.

   Madison - a childhood friend - had moved back to our small hometown after she’d been through some terrible stuff and needed a place to recoup herself. The transition wasn’t easy for her so I just tried to be there. I don’t think we were best friends, but we did spend a lot of time hanging out. It was 100% platonic. I felt like she was out of my league. Madison had supermodel looks, a fiery personality and was the type you call ‘an old soul’. When I realized that I had feelings for her I just felt ill-equipped to step up to the plate, so I resigned to the bench. I hummed and hawed over it for a while, but when it became clear she was moving on to a new chapter in her life I figured that I wasn’t what she was looking for or needed right then.

   I met Bella via mutual friends shortly afterwards, Bella having recently suffered a breakup. I suspect our friends jumped at the chance to matchmake faster than a rehabilitated tic-tac-toe champion playing for crystal meth. There was palpable sexual tension between us. She was attractive, smart, motivated, spiritual, and a heck of a good person to have when you need tough love and straight-talk. However I was oblivious to all of that. Never actually being together was hard to accept, so I abused our relationship and kept fostering the idea that something could happen and basically held her to ransom. Eventually I realising that I was flogging a dead horse - that had already turned into a bottle of PRITT Project Glue - I made use of the Beyonce Method of Departure. I packed up everything I own in a box, headed off to the left, to the left again, headed down Coward’s Way, and started distancing myself. 

   So I was pretty bitter when I met Peach. We shared a few classes but didn’t cross paths until our sophomore year. A definitive knockout, I took the fall and got pinned for a three-count. She was the first person I ever liked who also happened to be the same field of research as me. That had a heavy impact on my opinion of her a lot, so respect drove me to try treat Peach as an equal. We went to a few movies together,a couple restaurants, celebrated birthdays, attended house parties. Great times, but I never made a pitch regardless of how overconfident I felt. I learnt my lesson when I waited long enough for her to start dating a long since forgotten high school friend of mine. 

   I snapped… quite vividly in fact. Seeing her hurt; talking to her hurt; thinking about her hurt; an incarnation of The Doctor was John Hurt. My addiction to hurt brought me to sharing the gift of misery with mankind, similar to an Emo Santa Claus. I upgraded my skills from merely distancing myself, to becoming an undercover CIA sleeper agent assassin and fell off the grid entirely.

“Press L1+A to swerve.”

   If the above three tales sound familiar to you, you’ve either lived through similar things or have been barraged by tales of woe from your “victimised” friends. At certain points during each case above, I heard the term ‘friendzoned’ being thrown around by a lot of my compadres. No standard definition for the verb was offered and Urban Dictionary wasn’t lifting my self-esteem. I was at a low and wasn’t sure what to do with myself. Didn’t so much as eye a woman for months. I don’t think I planned to ever again, considering the emotional pile-up. However things don’t always work out the way you expect, be those things Life or M. Night Shyamalan movies.

   I didn’t fall for Irene all at once, it was sort of piece by piece. Friends for over a year and a half already, Irene is a very likeable person you can count on for a friend any day. A rare quality, to be sure. Our closest mutual gang of friends have dinner together every Friday so that we keep in touch. Depending on proper medication and planetary alignment, I am remotely capable of being funny, and It started when I fell for her laugh. I grew a pyromaniacal addiction to her explosive giggle-fits at the dinner table. She sounded like that small part inside of Man that’s laughing at all the joy, sorrow and irony that life can fling at us. Everything else fell into place from there on. Great sense of humor? Check. Intelligence? Check. Emotional maturity? Check. Looks? That’s a ten-figure cheque made out to Checklin Checkerson by the Chequered Flag Association… of the Czech Republic. She’ll hate me for saying this, but Irene is without a doubt one of the finest women to have ever donned a pair of sweatpants since their invention in thee Chinese sweatshops of olde.

   Asking her out was hella interesting. The best description for how it happened is to say I tripped over my own tongue. I sorta just spat it out. Considering the surreal shock I’d given her, I let her think about it for a bit. 

   I was in the middle of texting my cardiologist when Irene paid me a phone call. She asked to meet me outside. She’d walked halfway across town and pulled herself away from an exam study session just to talk. She struggled to get across what she’d been thinking about, although she’d did a way better job than I had done earlier. I hoped against hope, but ultimately she decided she didn’t see me in a romantic light. In the politest way possible, I got rejected…. 

   Next Friday we were both at the weekly dinner, cooking, laughing and jamming together with everything back to normal. Nothing had changed, and I was cool with that.

“Huh?”

   If my reaction/action befuddles you, then this opinion piece is DEFINITELY for you. 

   Human attraction is normal, we are after all social creatures at heart. We look for certain qualities in both potential mates AND potential friends. More often than not, the qualities we look for in one tend to overlap with those we appreciate in the other, thus you have cases where friends start dating. 

   If you’ve ever felt bitter and acted out over getting friendzoned by the “object of your desire”, consider this. There are people in the world who walk into relationships and still manage to maintain a level of civility after breaking up, and sometime those breakups are for rather serious reasons. Of course they feel hurt sometimes, but they still look back on the good times they shared. However they also look to the good times they could share ahead without the constant pressure of possibly hurting each other or making things complicated. I’ve asked acquaintances of mine who’ve achieved such gargantuan feats before and asked for their insider help. They prescribe something called “getting the **** over it”. 

   Amicable exes effectively friendzone one another this way because who wants to live alone? Really? WHO? I guess you can’t help who you fall for, but if you’re out there looking, do you just settle for abject loneliness like it’s your only choice? Is it so hard to picture yourself with a really attractive, funny, intelligent, sexy, engaging, tasteful, gorgeous, caring person as nothing more than a friend?

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   What I’m trying to say is, don’t you think it could be nice at least? It can only be awkward if you make it awkward. But then again, some folks don’t treat friendzoning encounters with the proper etiquette. Ever since Irene, I’ve figured out the following.

To people get friendzoned by someone(zonee):

Accept the now and respect that person’s word if they say they just want to be friends. Assuming they were born with a conscience, they cared enough to let you know how they really feel and tried to save you face simultaneously, so go with that. You’re allowed to ask why, but do not badger. Unless you have a legit reason, or you know for a fact that you’ve been lead on, then let sleeping dogs lie. You could hurt yourself further. If you must pry however, ask them later if they can offer any tips on your perceived “game plan”. Laugh about it. Make it an icebreaker if things were left awkward. If that person really wants to be friends, meet ‘em halfway and try salvage what you can. BE a friend. You already know they’re pleasant to be around, so take advantage of their company in your life. Remember to respect that person and respect yourself as well.

To people who friendzone someone(zoner):

Figure out how you feel, be honest and shoot straight from the hip. It’s a show of respect that’ll be appreciated at the end of the day. Remember, giving someone false hope can either drive them to reach for the sky, or send them on a Jules Verne Travel Package (high-five for getting the reference), so go with your gut. Just be nice. The other person might need a bit of time to recalibrate their feelings. If things turn out well, the two of you will be back to normal in no time. 

   The above directions are for people who have either explicitly asked someone out, or have been asked out, with outcome lying in the “negative”. If you’re a zonee saying, “But what if I’m doing all I can to get their attention and they’re not responding?”, then stop. If you’re saying that you’re in the friend zone because the other person isn’t “reading you” or not becoming your obligatory partner when you haven’t even asked or put your thoughts and feelings on the table, then sorry bud, you’re not a citizen of the zone. You’re a refugee applying for asylum in my country. Our economy is burgeoning with your kind already. If you want a temporary residence permit, get police clearance from that side before you get here. Hell, you might even get lucky and find a job to fill that side if you just ASK. 

   To the small breed of people who treat such cases with malicious intent, be you a zoner or zonee, just stop. Stop acting like a three year-old. Emotional blackmail isn’t cool, leading someone on isn’t cool, treating someone like their feelings don’t matter isn’t cool, so spare people the drama. It fulfills nothing really. If it does for you, then maybe you should talk to someone before you start losing people. You might not think it, but sometimes you can unknowingly impress the same sort of horrors on your closest “real” friends in non-romantic areas of your life. Please just be mindful of others.

   Don’t be a love-racist guys. Sure, one kind of affection might obligate you to more activities than the other, but don’t try devalue the love of romance or the love of friendship (or family for that matter). My eldest of 3 older sisters once shared a John Donne quotation with me. “No man is an island.” Watch Hong Kong director Stephen Chow’s (star of Kung Fu Hustle and Shaolin Soccer) recent film titled Journey to the West: Conquering the Demons for some added perspective.

   The Friend Zone is about as real as the Equator. The only people who’re really so mindful of its existence are those who live there. If you find yourself here, then find something to do. Lying down like a beaten dog shouldn’t be your only option. There are like a dozen countries lying on the Equator, so get a move on and explore it. Take that friend and go on an adventure. Your willingness to express good intent and the other person’s willingness to receive it can only result in good things. It could boost your ability to attract people. That friend might even send you a Green Card out of the zone - just don’t count on it. Basing a friendship on a hope like that is a sure-fire recipe for disaster. And just downright creepy.

   Until we’re heading out to the final frontiers of space like in Star Trek, and intermingling with the sexiness the outer reaches of the galaxy have yet to offer, then we are all we have right now. Don’t take it for granted. Someone will come along, eventually.

As for me, I’m still working out my kinks. Until further notice, I’m looking forward to a positive future and saving myself for a xenomorph queen like the one from the Aliens movies. If it lasts long enough I’m hoping she’ll want to have kids.

“I hope it’s a girl.”