Platonic is Real

Years ago when my daughter was in high school, we went to an after school gathering for her school. There were speakers and musicians gracing the stage. And then a poet made an appearance. I have no recollection of what he said that day, but I wanted him in a bad bad way. Not necessarily sexually, although I wouldn’t have turned it down, but I just wanted to be in the presence of someone so vocabularily talented. I know that’s not a word, but I do what I want. I thought maybe it would rub off on me. I wanted him to rub off on me. Not to be confused with rubbing ONE off on me. That’s a completely different blog…..

So I saw this dude perform and I was instantly a fan girl. I didn’t know his name, I just knew his face and his voice. Then I didn’t see him anymore.

I went to a neighborhood luncheon a couple years later, and low and behold, there he was again, with more words to get my attention, and again, I was awed. And again, I went home never to see him again.

Then I had a S’mores party at my house. It’s a party with fire and friends and graham cracker, chocolate, and shmallows….

I had invited an eclectic group of people. If I’m being honest, my little party was probably the only place these people would have ever met each other and gotten along. And they did. Everyone was having a good time. People were inviting their friends to come over. People were showing up that I didn’t even know.

And then he walked in. The poet.

I kept my cool. And I didn’t try to jump his bones, even though I wanted to. But that’s not my style. Plus, I was entertaining people. So we officially met and then over the next little bit, we continuously ran into each other. Somehow over the course of time, we exchanged numbers. We started talking randomly. Nothing romantic. Turned out he had a girlfriend. So over the next two years we just got to know each other. I’ve never been one to mess with someone who has a woman. I may seem like I have no scruples, but I really do. And I met his girl and she was really nice to me and we became friends. Not as close as he and I were, but definitely close enough that I would definitely not fuck him. So we would hang out every now and then, mostly when there was food or poetry involved and we got to know each other really well.

There really is something to be said for platonic relationships.

The poet and his girl recently broke up and during that time, he and I have gotten to hang out more because now there is nobody to get jealous. Or so I thought. Apparently, it is really difficult for people to wrap their minds around the fact that two people of the opposite sex can actually be friends without being attracted to one another.

I’ll be the first to admit that I am a sexual being. I’ll also be the first to tell you that he is, too, but just to clarify, that doesn’t mean that we will fuck whatever is in front of us. It simply means that when we find someone who we feel we mesh well with who is worthy of our time, we like to take full advantage of a good situation. So every time I even start to talk  to a dude, I have to add the clarification that regardless of where this relationship leads, I have male friends who I plan on keeping around. It’s hard for a lot of dudes to grasp. Just as hard for women to grasp as well. And it’s sad.

I love having male friends. I love having a male perspective around. Probably, selfishly, because I think more like a man than a woman. I get along really well with men. I get along with women, but just like some men find me intimidating, it’s like tenfold for women for some reason. I think I’m approachable and sweet. From the outside looking in, apparently I look like a bitch who will cut you. With that being said, I have a handful of female friends who I’ve known for ten plus years, but all my other female friends that I have met in the last ten years are not as accepting of the person I am. But my male friends are….well, the ones who don’t want to fuck me.

Anyway, I just think it’s funny how perspectives change when you take the time to get to know someone before jumping in the sack with them. I really love knowing why he’s calling me before he even says anything. It’s one of the perks of life. Friends are one of the perks of life and although everyone else may always think the worst or have their heads in the gutter, I wouldn’t trade this dude’s friendship for anything, not even a mind blowing roll in the hay.