Bros before hoes

Its so easy for people to laugh and admit easily that in any instance that comes through life, if it came down to it, they would pick their friends over a significant other. No questions asked. But is that just lip service? Friends are forever, and more often than not boyfriends and girlfriends come and go, changing as rapid as the seasons. But what happens when the friend chooses the boyfriend or the girlfriend over the friend? Once upon a time I had been burned a little by this exact event, and I couldn’t believe it. How could some friend that I’d known for years just drop me for a guy. I was beside myself at the notion of it. The guy I didn’t care about. But I was so shocked at how easily the friend didn’t think anything about brushing me aside. With that said, this is not a feel sorry for me blog, just kind of stating the state of how things are. At the time I had been sitting with a group of friends and told them of the current worry of losing a friend. There had been at least four people in the room, and everyone of them had a story to tell about how an old friend had given up a friend to be with the wrong person. And they agreed with me. It sucks.

With that said. I want to know. Have you ever been dumped by a friend in exchange¬† for the wrong person and a mediocre romance? I’d love to hear about it.


When I saw you…

I was walking around the center of my strange city. I had told my mother I was going out to have a beer. When really I was just wanting to see what all was out in this city on a Tuesday night. I had already been surprised by a large handful of friends earlier that day, people I hadn’t necessarily thought of seeing. It had been great to see all these people that had spent that last four years dancing through my memories and dreams. And to suddenly have them in my present was a thought I just hadn’t found a way to wrap my head around. In the moment, I wasn’t sure where I was going, or if a beer would actually be involved in my night at all. But somewhere, there was something about to happen, I could just feel it, this warm sensation of excited nerves simmered inside me. Then I heard something that pulled my from my daze in this strange city. It was my own name. But who was calling it? I turned my head to focus my eyes on an image that shocked me so much, that I would have been less shocked to see my dead friend Kim standing there. It was a vision of my past. A person who had passed through my thoughts at least a hundred times. A man. Someone who had put his finger print in my thoughts about men when I was sixteen. We’ll call him Jose. He was my english teacher in the high school when I had been an exchange student in this strange city. He was teaching me how to say “Hello. How are you?” in my own language. At the time he had been so friendly, and I remember thinking he was adorable. His pale skin was close to matching mine, except it had an olive twist to it, a different tinge of pale. And his eyes weren’t¬† the usual dark chocolate brown that I had become used to seeing in this strange city. They sparkled a light brown that was amazing and delicate that I couldn’t help but smile. We were talking outside of the class room one day and he cocked his head to the side and smiled at me. I smiled back. I remember thinking how friendly he was. It wasn’t it till he reached up and brushed an eye lash from cheek with his thumb that I felt my stomach jump, I knew he somehow felt similar to the way that I did. And then in that moment he said something I had only days before dreamt about hearing “Would you want to go out sometime?” Was he serious? Looking in his eyes I realized he was. “You’re kidding right?” was all I could think to say. I mean sure I’d thought about it, but he’s old, and I’m not. “Yes, come on. I am young. I am 26 years old!” Okay buddy that’s not that young, I remember thinking then. “I’m only 16!” I squeaked back. And that was essentially the end of that. For the rest of the year I avoided his class, I just plain skipped it, I had been so creeped out that I couldn’t even look at him without my skin crawling.

Well as I said to him then, I was only sixteen. And now, well I’m older, and a bit more experienced in life. Over the past few years I laughed at my younger self, wishing she could have seen that ten years difference isn’t as much as it might have seemed at the time. I didn’t ever expect to see that man again.

But now, when I was standing only feet away from him in this strange city. My eyes popped out of my head and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Lee! It is so good to see you!” I couldn’t even bring to words how funny it was to see him. I had kicked myself for letting the ten years keep me from liking him. And here he was standing in front of me. I knew that I had five weeks to see what could maybe happen with him. So with his invitation to join him and his teacher friends I followed him into a restaurant, we had drinks and chatted a bit. It only took twenty minutes and I realized nothing special would happen with this man. I wasn’t certain though, so I told him I needed to leave, and asked that he walk me home. After a few minutes of being persistent, he agreed but said he would drive me, and we would walk to his car. His car was halfway home for me, and walking with him was nice. He was conveniently parked near my first host family’s house, and I hadn’t been there yet, so I stopped for a moment to take it in, it was weird being back there. And had I not been with Jose I would have gone and rang the door bell. Jose pulled me over to where he was standing at his car. He placed his hands on my hips, and already I knew what was going to happen. I smiled for a moment looking at him. I knew after he dropped me off at home, I wouldn’t see him again, and I simply shrugged. He pulled me toward him so that our faces were inches away from each other. Our noses touched. I placed my hands on his chest to steady myself, and then in one moment, he kissed me. A voice went off in my head said to me “I’m baaack.” Kissing this man in front of me was just like being seventeen all over again. I had kissed so many people so many times in hopes of building something, of filling some void for my insecure seventeen year old self. But now at twenty-one with no void to fill, and my security intact, I pulled away from him, smiled, and then walked around to the other side of the car, and climbed in, then quickly got out of the car after thanking him when he reached my house. I came to Mexico to find the girl I used to be, the fun, crazy, cocky, arrogant little girl hoping to make it out of this adventure alive, when all I really found was that that little girl had grown up.

Putting it all on paper…

If I sat down in my small apartment and made a list of all the things I want in a man, it would go something like this… He would need to be tall, dark hair, dark eyes, a strong build, baring a slight resemblance to Michael Buble, Dermot Mulroney, and Steven Ward, he’d love Dave Matthews Band almost as much as I do, he would come from some sort of higher social class, he’d be cultured, and always have great idea for fun dates. And for reasons I don’t understand, I found that guy on I couldn’t believe it. He was cute, and he loved Dave Matthews, and had agreed that sushi would make for a great first date. After sushi this tall dreamy man suggested we go bowling, then after bowling I suggested the beach, then after the beach he suggested down town. Everything was going perfect… on paper. I mean hell I even called my mom to tell her about this guy the next day. Well the next day came and we lost contact, I didn’t care to call and apparently he didn’t either.

My mother mentioned him a few times, wondering if we were still talking.

Well last night I was at my club of choice down town and while I was shaking my hips and dancing, I looked across the room and saw this tall man. Our eyes locked and I smiled. It was him. It was the tall guy from before who loved Dave Matthews Band. I beckoned him over to me and it was as we were dancing together on the dance floor that I realized why the perfect date had only been a one time thing. It was all there on paper, written out perfectly. But there was no spark.

I get by with a little help from my friends…

What would you do if I sang out of tune? Would you stand up and walk out on me?

There’s times where I pride myself on being able to do things by myself and to more or less always be independent. But sometimes, I just need a friend. And I’ve gone through several friends in my life. There’s sometimes people who I honestly thought were my friends, only to turn around and realize they really weren’t and they exit stage right in the play of my life. It’s never really bothered me. But it has made me take notice of the people I really hold near and dear. And it’s easy to say that I honestly have a handful of close friends, and I am completely ok with that. Don’t get me wrong, I have tons of acquaintances, but I don’t know that I’d consider them a close friend. Close friends are the people you know you can call any time, day or night and they’ll be there. And those kind of friends can never be held close enough.

As much as I love having friends like that, I seldom feel as though I am in a spot where I HAVE TO TALK TO THAT PERSON LIKE NOW. But when I am in those spots, its good to know those people will come. And like I said I love having friends like that, but even more so, I love being a friend like that. I love knowing that people feel like they can call me anytime. And they can, and if I’m able I’ll answer the phone.

Growing up, my mother had a friend who I’ll just refer to her as Aunt S. She and my mother had been best friends since they were in this sixth grade. I’d always referred to her as Aunt S. and it wasn’t until I really started to get older that I realized how rare and great it is to have friends like that, that have known you for so long. Well I remember one time… ok there was a few times I remember, but I’ll just use this one example. My mother, my sister and I were stranded three hours from home, and my mom called Aunt S and told her we needed someone to get us. I love that she didn’t even ask questions she just said “I’ll be right there”. Two and a half hours later she showed up sans her bra with a six pack of Bud Light (for her and my mother) and two sodas for my sister and I. She didn’t ask questions. She just drove us home, making casual conversation. Now that’s a friend. Someone who will drive hours to get you out of a tight squeeze… without even putting a bra on at that.

And most of all I love knowing I’m that kind of friend as well.