Steph’s street? 18.43
And Steph’s hallway? 18.45
PLEASE LET ME LEAVE THIS GODDAMN GROUP. 18.46
But weirdly, me and Andy didn’t slide as seamlessly into being BFFs as I thought we might… Here are some things I learned that evening, about hanging out with your best pal’s new loved one:
1) Watching Them Bond With Your Friend’s Family Will Feel A Bit Weird
I walked into the kitchen, where Andy was standing with Steph’s sister Jess, putting different flavours of popcorn into bowls. They were laughing together about something, and for a moment I felt this weird rage… Almost as if I was being invaded. Like…hey…that’s my Steph’s sister, not your Steph’s sister. What if the Brents like him better than me?!
It also felt kind of mature. Suddenly mine and Steph’s lives were flashing before my eyes, and we were ancient old women knitting each other spotted nose-warmers. It made me feel like running around the room waving my arms in the air…and also a little bit like mooning them.
Anyway, eventually they stopped their freakish bonding. I think they were distracted by my beard.
2) They Might Not Appreciate Your Costume Genius
In stereotypical boyish fashion, Andy had a plastic mask on top of his head and otherwise looked completely normal.
‘Oh hey,’ he said. ‘Nice…beard.’
‘Why thank you.’
‘I thought you were into fashion?’ he asked, genuinely.
3) They Might Not Appreciate Your Comedy Genius, Either
As I was trying to get to the bathroom, Andy was standing blocking the door. We did that awkward little bobbing-from-side-to-side thing trying to get past each other, until eventually I said,‘You shall not pass!’
He smiled, but it didn’t really reach his eyes.
The evening wasn’t terrible or anything, but I guess we just didn’t totally…integrate? A lot of the time it was just me and Steph laughing together, like how we normally hang out, but, er… With someone else in the room.
I spoke to Mum about it, and she said it sounded as if Andy might feel like a bit of a third wheel, because me and Steph are…well, me and Steph. So then I thought, all right, obviously I need to try even harder to make this work. The next day I ditched the Gandalf outfit as, clearly, he’s not for everyone. I organized bowling, shopping, a trip to the zoo…Hell, I even suggested horseback riding. I photobombed all their selfies. I made little matching bracelets. I bought t-shirts that said ‘The Three Musketeers!’ on them…
… But alas, when I accidentally bowled in the wrong alleyway, knocking down some kid’s pins (who then started crying), Steph creased up, but Andy seemed a little embarrassed. Steph wore her bracelet with pride, but Andy covered his with his sleeve. When they discovered me lurking in the background of at least 75 per cent of their pictures, Steph rolled around on the floor with laughter screaming, ‘It looks like you’re about to KILL us!!’, but Andy seemed somewhat puzzled and afraid.
Though our special t-shirts proclaimed a deep and meaningful camaraderie, it seemed as if neither of us were really feeling it.
Evidence: Making friends with your friend’s partner isn’t as easy as you might think.
I don’t want this to sound as if I don’t like him or anything. I do. He’s perfectly nice. But I just don’t want to spend all my time with him, and he definitely doesn’t want to spend all his time with me.
Eventually, Mum suggested that whilst ‘focusing on my friendships’ was a noble effort, perhaps it doesn’t always mean being together every waking moment, perhaps it sometimes means giving them some space. And whilst getting to know your best friend’s boyfriend is a necessary and worthwhile thing to do, perhaps we both needed some alone time with Steph too. I had to agree that this three-way relationship wasn’t working out, and we’ve since split Steph 50/50…which is totally fair.
I know now that Mum was right. Really, it was ridiculous that I thought we were going to be able to spend as much time together as we did before. Obviously they need alone time and given we spent a hundred per cent of our free time together, something was logistically just going to have to change (because despite what Mr Crispin said in my latest report, I can do basic maths).
The only thing is, when you’re used to spending all of your free time with someone and then you get left with half of it, no matter how fair it is…you are still left with a giant, gaping hole to fill, and a general sense of loss, misplacement and confusion.
I’m so lonely.
posted by EditingEmma 16.20
I never thought it would come to this, but…I’m even, dare I say it, a little bit tired of masturbating.
Hum diddly dum.
posted by EditingEmma 17.54
Yes! Found a brilliant distraction from my pathetic wretchedness. I was just walking past Mum’s laptop, completely innocently, on my way to get a banana from the kitchen and…it was open on a dating website. I couldn’t resist taking a look. (If she really wants me to ‘respect her privacy’, she’s going to have to at least close her tabs. I mean, come on.) It’s clearly a new site she’s joined as she hadn’t answered any of the questions. I decided to help her out:
How do you feel about meeting someone new?
• I’m ready for a new relationship
Too keen. Also she’s blatantly still hung up on her stripper ex-boyfriend Olly.
• I’m not looking for a relationship
Then why would you be on here? Go on Adult Friend Finder.
• I’d rather not say
That’s very cagey.
• Let’s see what happens
I’ve gone with this because it is the only response that is halfway normal.
Relationship status:
• Never married
• Separated
• Divorced
• Widowed
• I’d rather not say
What is it with this ‘I’d rather not say’ business? If anyone is actually ticking the ‘I’d rather not say’ option under ‘relationship status’, they should really just make a box for ‘married’. Because that’s what it means, isn’t it.
Children:
• Yes
• No
• I’d rather not say
Genius. I’ve clicked ‘I’d rather not say’.
Personality type:
• Adventurous
• Confident
• Easy-going
• Funny
• Generous
• Reserved