I Don't Envy Your Situation

I always saw him from a bit of a distance, growing up. He was my best friend's older brother and her favorite person. He was so cool. He could make a whole room laugh by saying the unexpected thing at just the right time. He made it look easy. He was all light. He bounded across a room, even when he was just walking. Big strides. One hand holding his pants up because this was the late 90s/early 2000s. He was one of those boys who has that effortless masculine build and athleticism. All genetics and no training. My friend and I tried modeled ourselves after him, we tried to be as daring as he was.

I at no point in my youth told a boy I liked him. I either didn't have the confidence or hadn't developed the ability to notice if I had a shot with someone. I found out much later, after I went to college, after I was married, that my friend's brother had had a crush on me too. And at that point, he was still beautiful. 

Last weekend, I went over to my friend's house. She had just come home from the hospital where they removed her ruptured appendix. Two months ago, she gave birth to identical twin girls. I told her and her husband and her brother -- who was there, as he had been helping watch after her older son -- about my separation. I knew it was going to be a difficult conversation. I had been putting it off. Of all my friends, telling my best friend about my relationship choices has always been fraught. 

When I got my first boyfriend in 8th grade, she teased me so relentlessly that I broke up with him. (His name was "Gentry" and she howled with laughter and called him "Dentisty." Dentistry! Dentistry! It wasn't my fault he had a dumb name.) She was so upset when I got married that she cried her fake eyelashes off as she stood next to me during the ceremony. When I had an affair, she was hurt that I didn't tell her about it sooner. "Don't you trust me?" She asked. "I'd never judge you." 

Her brother, a beer in front of him, wanted to know why I wasn't drinking. "Are you one of those sober California people now?" He had gained weight since I last saw him, and he commented on it. "Stop calling yourself fat," my friend told him. "This might be a mom thing to say, but you look skinny, " he told me. "Sorry, I probably shouldn't have said that." He followed up. I told him it was fine. 

I feel like I'm being cruel -- although accurate -- like, hey look, here's a time where I came off better than someone else. I guess that's what I am doing. But it's not nice to see the beautiful boy I revered in a state like that. Saying, unprompted, that people shouldn't judge him for his drinking. Saying that he's the failure of the family. Saying that he doesn't have very many friends and he doesn't do very much. I feel like he was saying, "Look at us. Look at you, and look at me." And I was looking. And he wanted me to hold that maybe. 

When I got home, he messaged me on Instagram saying that he still has feelings for me. He and his wife have been trying to have a baby. 

My friend -- a different friend -- from college got divorced. Shortly afterwards, people kept coming out of the woodwork, confessing their love for her. One of the most notable was her ex-husband's closest friend. Over dinner, he said he'd been in love with her for a long time. She turned him down. He moved to Florida. My friend's ex told me that he moved there with his girlfriend, who has three kids that he's helping to raise. My friend's ex said this guy's feeling really isolated and alone. 

Christianna, my Greek basketball friend, (last friend I'll mention, I promise) told me that she doesn't envy my situation. That wasn't the main point of whatever she was telling me, it was just a one-off comment. But it struck me as strange. My situation has seemed good to me, like a thousand steps in the right direction. Although, I am getting tired of feeling sad. 

When you go through a difficult time publicly, people tend to show you their pain. They do it directly or indirectly. They say, this is what I'm going through, but I'm soldiering through. And you tell them that that is fine. It's admirable. They don't have to change anything just because you are. Others ask if you'll catch them if they jump -- away from their situation, away from what they're tired of, away from their felt loss of control. And you say you're sorry but no. 

It was great to see you too.