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Dear Breakup Girl,
Aw, dang, I can't remember the last time I felt this nihilistic about anything.
Currently "dating" Dreamman. "Dating" is a loose approximation; after living
with me trouble-free for nearly four years, science-guy Dreamman has gone to
work on-site in Colorado, while I remain on the east coast. I'm pretty sure
he's never coming back, and I don't think I want to move there. Or maybe I do.
I have nothing here but a soul-sucking job and a nice apartment, so it isn't
like I have anything to lose, but I'm still not sold. Dreamman and I -- despite
being best friends, constant companions, and two peas in a cutesy little pod
-- haven't had sex in three years. We slept in the same bed, cuddled, smooched,
and played around, but the sex just disappeared one day.
We've talked about it, and the best we can come up with is that we've "moved
past sex." Is such a thing possible? Normal? Healthy? Who knows. I'm not really
disappointed in the lack of rumpus, to tell the truth, but I feel like I SHOULD
be, and that's making me give the relationship with him the evil eye. It's like
I'm worried we're abnormal or that we're kidding ourselves because we're not
in a relationship, we're in a rut. I've told him my fears, and he says he's
in as much love as ever and doesn't want to split up. He wants me in Colorado.
Meanwhile, I feel like a hypocrite because, despite the fact that we're both
free-spirit juvenile types who fear marriage, mortgages, and children, I feel
like settling down with him is a mistake because someday I MIGHT want those
things, and he most certainly doesn't. (We're both 30, so at some point I suppose
we'll have to abandon the "plenty of time to think about it" argument...)
Meanwhile, I've developed an unhealthy attachment to my coworker, Manlyman.
I'm at an assembly line, so horsing around with him is one of the few things
that make the day bearable. He's funny, sexy as hell, a heck of a nice guy,
unmarried, good values, yadda yadda. (I don't think we'd do well as a couple,
but things like crushes are seldom rational.) We've developed a really open
friendship, so I up and told him that I'm really attracted to him -- not really
as a come-on; he knows the situation with Dreamman, and we both recognize that
the surest way to get animals to mate is to put them in the same cage (or on
the same assembly line, as the case may be). Regardless, he said that I'm a
nice gal, but he's not attracted to me. I was fine with that for like, 32 hours,
and then I said to myself, "Well why the hell NOT? I'm not a supermodel, but
I'm a barrel of laughs, and I have my share of good hair days!" So, now I'm
jealous as hell of this new girl he met in the coffee shop, who apparently is
sweet as her pecan pie, and I find myself getting all snippy and emotional over
someone who wasn't even my boyfriend.
In the big picture, I see my crush on Manlyman as evidence that maybe I'm not
meant to be with Dreamman, but deep down I know that my feelings for Dreamman
keep me from going out and meeting people, and I suspect that I'll never find
anyone I get along with so well. Is that what love is all about? Finding someone
who knows you inside and out, faults and all, and who still loves you anyway?
Someone who makes you laugh and listens to your hurts and -- although it isn't
the romantic life you've dreamed of -- you know won't run out in a pinch? That's
Dreamman all over, but where does the physical relationship come in? Is it okay
to want a life without sex? I'm exhausted from thinking about it and leary of
making a big move out west for something that might be the emotional equivalent
of the twilight that is neither defeat nor victory.
--Nihilist
Dear Nihilist,
Weeeellll, I have to say I'm not so sure about this "moved
past sex" idea. Even people who are into all that high-falutin' other-plane
ethereal tantric stuff still, like, do it.
That's why I strongly suggest that you do not consider
moving to Colorado without first talking to a pro
(alone or, somehow, together) about what's missing.
Don't misunderstand: I'm not pronouncing you Not Normal.
Nor can I say for sure whether what's "wrong" is grand, like some
sort of sex-phobia or latent non-straight/vanilla sexuality on someone's part,
or something bland, like "Honey, where did we put that spark?" Or
neither: perhaps, at its core, this relationship is, as you say ... best
friends. Because, apart from those situations where "friends" seems
to mean "...except we can still sleep together," "friends"
-- even/especially bestest ones -- don't, like, do it. Very strictly
speaking, it (it) is what makes the person you're in the same bed with
different from the people you hang out with.
So no matter whether or not the "lack of rumpus"
is a Problem, I will say this: it's a cryin' shame. I understand the
rareness and fondness in much of what you two peas share, but one of the perks
is that you do get to do more in that pod than sit primly side byside.
To suggest otherwise, to say/imply that "everything's fine ...'except in
the bedroom'" is an excuse-phemism. "The bedroom" is not a lean-to
in the vacant lot next door; it's part of your house.
Nihilist, here's the thing: I want you to have passion
everywhere in your life. Why are you drawn to Manlyman? Almost a no-brainer.
Not only do you crave sparky attention/tension at home, heck, you also crave
it at work. "Soul-sucking job?" I say that's not good enough for you
either, sweepea. In love and work -- verily, in your soul -- I don't want you
to play it safe and still and small, standing in one place, taking whatever
rides down the belt and assembling it into something you can make work. That
"spirit" you talk about? Free it. That barrel of laughs? Spill it.
Do it.
Love,
Breakup Girl
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