These days in my office there’s this ubiquitous email in our inbox, subjected Can A Man and A Woman be Friends Only. Been a lively chat, and up to this morning, the court is adjourned to the decision of: no, a man and a woman cannot be just friends, they will reach this point where the will fall romantically to each other, or at least one of them to the other. With a little disclaimer: possible under the sole circumstance as to one of or both the party is/are gay. People in my office solemnly abide by the decree. But two persons. My buddy Andrian and I.
Andrian is one of the finest guys left on Earth. He’s a real gentleman inside and out. He’s happily married. We share the fondness of a lot of things: foods, books, comics, cartoon flicks, movies, witty jokes on people around us and each other. It’s comfortable around him, I can tell about my achievements without him feeling outshined because he shines himself, I can tell him about my mistakes without him being judgmental because he humbly comprehends he makes mistakes too. We can do silly things we don’t normally do when people around and never fail to have good laugh on it. And with all the promiscuity in the air of the maledom realm, he is genuinely cool with it. We enjoy a really simple sexless relationship, being friends in through our souls. And he’s not gay, and I’m a bisexual. Of course, I avoid excessive touching, since I’m bisexual, a very fine gentleman can still make me fall, better prevent than regret later. So in this principle of no pure platonic friendship between a man and a woman, we are, I guess, living legends of an exception.
Yesterday, Andrian and I sat together in a pizza chain near our office, we had our lunch. Some people had trespassed me, and I was bitching up on them, and Aldo, as usual, endure it. Suddenly I stopped, a ray of consciousness slipped into my head.
“Oh I’m so bitter…” I gasped. I hold my head with both hands. “Oh I have become a bitter person, oh my goodness..!” I look at Andrian, perplexed.
“A little bit, you are always,” Andrian smiled mysteriously. I open my mouth involuntarily. “It’s part of who you are, being wittily subtle sarcasm,” he chuckled softly. I’m speechless. He looked at me, he grinned, his little eyes left as lines only.
“Is it so… oh I’m sorry…” I said after gaining my composure. “It must be not too pleasurable for you to be with me all the time…” I said meekly.
“Don’t be sorry,” his eyes soften. “I told you, it is part of who you are.”
“But why are you still here with me?”
“Because I have chosen to be your friend. I’m a friend for the good you, and just as much a friend for the less good you.”
I almost cry. That is simply the sweetest thing. It doesn’t come from a lover by candlelit in a fancy restaurant or after being given a thirty-five carat diamond ring or in a post-orgasm delirium. I looked at him and weakly whispered a thank-you. He smiled.
“We are no angels, Nat. We are flesh and blood, we have feelings. If people do us wrong, it is okay to be angry. The most important is, after a while we can manage it to subside and leave it behind. Forgiving people. Forgiving ourselves,” he looked at me fondly. “And I will be with you through that while. Promise.”
I just can weakly whisper a thank-you again.
“Well,” Andrian grinned. “You will always be my Little Miss Sarcasm…” then he laughed at me frowning and sticking out my tongue to him.
If you have to loose everything and can only keep one thing, ask for your best friend to stay. It would be enough.
Andrian is one of the finest guys left on Earth. He’s a real gentleman inside and out. He’s happily married. We share the fondness of a lot of things: foods, books, comics, cartoon flicks, movies, witty jokes on people around us and each other. It’s comfortable around him, I can tell about my achievements without him feeling outshined because he shines himself, I can tell him about my mistakes without him being judgmental because he humbly comprehends he makes mistakes too. We can do silly things we don’t normally do when people around and never fail to have good laugh on it. And with all the promiscuity in the air of the maledom realm, he is genuinely cool with it. We enjoy a really simple sexless relationship, being friends in through our souls. And he’s not gay, and I’m a bisexual. Of course, I avoid excessive touching, since I’m bisexual, a very fine gentleman can still make me fall, better prevent than regret later. So in this principle of no pure platonic friendship between a man and a woman, we are, I guess, living legends of an exception.
Yesterday, Andrian and I sat together in a pizza chain near our office, we had our lunch. Some people had trespassed me, and I was bitching up on them, and Aldo, as usual, endure it. Suddenly I stopped, a ray of consciousness slipped into my head.
“Oh I’m so bitter…” I gasped. I hold my head with both hands. “Oh I have become a bitter person, oh my goodness..!” I look at Andrian, perplexed.
“A little bit, you are always,” Andrian smiled mysteriously. I open my mouth involuntarily. “It’s part of who you are, being wittily subtle sarcasm,” he chuckled softly. I’m speechless. He looked at me, he grinned, his little eyes left as lines only.
“Is it so… oh I’m sorry…” I said after gaining my composure. “It must be not too pleasurable for you to be with me all the time…” I said meekly.
“Don’t be sorry,” his eyes soften. “I told you, it is part of who you are.”
“But why are you still here with me?”
“Because I have chosen to be your friend. I’m a friend for the good you, and just as much a friend for the less good you.”
I almost cry. That is simply the sweetest thing. It doesn’t come from a lover by candlelit in a fancy restaurant or after being given a thirty-five carat diamond ring or in a post-orgasm delirium. I looked at him and weakly whispered a thank-you. He smiled.
“We are no angels, Nat. We are flesh and blood, we have feelings. If people do us wrong, it is okay to be angry. The most important is, after a while we can manage it to subside and leave it behind. Forgiving people. Forgiving ourselves,” he looked at me fondly. “And I will be with you through that while. Promise.”
I just can weakly whisper a thank-you again.
“Well,” Andrian grinned. “You will always be my Little Miss Sarcasm…” then he laughed at me frowning and sticking out my tongue to him.
If you have to loose everything and can only keep one thing, ask for your best friend to stay. It would be enough.
