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Predicament of the Week
In which Breakup Girl addresses the situation that has, this week, brought her the most (a) amusement, (b) relief that it is happening to someone else, and/or (c) proof that she could not possibly be making this stuff up.

Dear Breakup Girl,

I've been good friends with this one particular girl for several years. We first met when she was dating one of my close friends, and we've kept close ever since. Even when she moved 2,000 miles away for almost two years, we had semi-daily e-mail/phone contact. She and I were always in other relationships, so we never dated or anything. But now we are both single after recently ending long-term relationships under very similar circumstances.

Here's the deal. Lately, I've been finding myself very attracted to her. She is aware of it even though I haven't actually said "Hey, I LIKElike you." We share a lot of common interests, likes, and dislikes. We spend a lot of time together; nearly every day. She flirts with me a lot (and I flirt back). She is very good to me, and I think I'm just as good back. She has said that I'm the best person she has ever known. But, and this is a big one, she insists on calling me asexual. She has even gone as far as to say "I think of you like a Ken doll down there." Ouch! With all the stuff we do together and all the emotional support we give each other, it's like we're dating, only without the sex or anything physical at all. Except for the fact that she insists on being cuddly with annoying regularity or very occasionally sleeping in the same bed as me (conveniently "passing out")!

All this is very taxing on my sanity, especially since she is sending "come hither" signals while simultaneously pushing me away. But it doesn't end there. Recently, she slept with one of my friends whom she insisted that she would "never, ever, in a million years" sleep with. He is, to put it in Ice Cube's words: a ho.

The next day, things got a little strange. She unexpectedly came over my house before I got out of work and cleaned it top to bottom. A few days later, she found out that he wanted nothing to do with her. She chased him, while simultaneously continuing her usual flirty behavior with me. She slept with him one more time, and, again, unexpectedly came over my house the very next day to clean and this time cook dinner. I believe that this fling is now over. She will occasionally try to hook up with him again (unsuccessfully), and then call me several times the next day to try to make plans with me. It's like I'm the standby-no-sex-boyfriend.

So here's my quandary: How can I untangle from this mess without losing an old friend, and still maintain my sanity? It can't go on like this because I like her too much to not go further, but I can't just push her away because we've become so close over the years. She says she wants someone who's smart, funny, and caring and I'm practically screaming "Right here!!!" But she's too busy looking over my shoulder for someone else because she doesn't want to think of me as possible relationship material. I've tried to create some distance by finding other things to do, but somehow she always ends up in the same place or tags along with someone else that's going to be there. I love her, but I don't want to hurt her, and I don't want to hurt myself or be hurt in the process...but that's probably not in the cards.

-- Dan

Dear Dan,

She said what?!

She said that!?

You don't say that!

Good grief. It's the adult (I mean, "adult") version of calling someone a "teddy bear," which is bad enough. In fact, nowhere in the history of this column has the plight of the Nice Guy / Loftbuilder / Pastry Chef / Straight Gay Friend / Blapped been so clearly/cringeworthily enunciated. I'm tempted to say that I now think of her as a Barbie doll up there, and I don't mean her chest.

Then again, I know she's come through for you in other ways, not all of them involving the Scrubbing Bubbles. Let's talk about that for a sec, though. What's with the French Maid doll gig? My sense: the impulse is clean, double entendre intended. And, actually, "clean" as a verb. See, many women absorb and internalize the complex known as Madonna/Whore (or, as I like to call it, Heidi/Ho). In this case, let's call it: The Cleavage/Cleaver Complex. Way I see it, she uses the former in (for whatever reason) a hurtful, losing battle, and then runs to your -- safe -- place to perform her Good Little Wife penance. Iiiiinteresting.

That's the extra layer of creme in my theory that you are -- if I may further mix metaphors -- her Snackwell Boyfriend. As I told Brad: "You satisfy a craving -- with 30% fewer issues and risks! She gets to go through the motions, run through the girlfriend recipe with someone else -- someone safe, someone sturdy, someone who is not going to dis her like that bad [ho boy]."

And no wonder it's driving you nuts. Fair enough. So it's time for a talk in the den. Something like: "I treasure our friendship, and I'd hate to change or lose it. But the truth is that we are experiencing certain big blips of dating-like (or old-fashioned married-like) intimacy that demand more of me than I can give as a Friend. If you want to be friends, then let's do stuff friends do, like not cuddle or crash together. But if you really do want to turn up the heat, just keep doing what you're doing, and I'll be right there with you." It might be hard to spring back, Plastic Man-style, from the Ken comment. But who knows, maybe she's just been sweeping her FEELINGSfeelings under the rug to avoid having, gasp, an actual all-American relationship. In any case, Dan, I promise you that among all the women who think you're a doll, plenty will consider you the anatomically correct kind.

Love,
Breakup Girl

Related Breakup Girl Animation: The Loftbuilder

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