F Zoned

I’ve met, and in some cases have fallen in love with, lots of women in the time that I’ve been crawling across the surface of this spinning rock. In fact, I am still friends with many of them whether here on social media, in real life or in other ways like the occasional hand written letter, etc. In some cases, the women I am friends with…

…I am still “in love” with.

Now, I know that that love—regardless what went wrong—will always remain unrequited, that it will never bloom into the bountiful garden that I had once imagined…and I’m OK with that. I’m sad about it as well and have longing memories…fanciful daydreams even…but I’ve settled into a familiar routine of knowing what was once possible; can never be.

These friends I keep at arm’s length but not rigidly so, not so that it’s noticeable to anyone but me. I may occasionally drop a hint, test the waters, etc. but what I don’t do, or believe, is that I’ve been “friendzoned”.

Because there is no such thing.

I’m not saying that there aren’t girls out there who are assholes and take advantage of boys both for the no cost accumulation of material possessions or for the purposes of emotional blackmail and manipulation. That there are no girls out there who will knowingly take advantage of a situation where she knows she should reciprocate the feelings but quite deliberately does not, purely to her advantage.
There certainly are girls like that.

What I am saying is that it is up to me and only me to decide if I want to stay in a relationship where I love someone and they do not love me back…or do not love me back in the same way (or the way that I want them to). It’s my choice. If I do choose to stay, knowing full well that the love between us will forever remain a one way street (meaning that it’s not “between” us at all) then I have no right to complain or create a fictional situation called the “friend zone”.

Everything that happens thereafter is on me.

So if you’re a boy who is going to piss and moan that you’re such a great guy and you’re so nice and you can’t understand why girls don’t like you in the way that they like or love other boys…all the while refusing to identify and take ownership of the situation you have created—by simply not leaving—then you’re no different than someone who purposely hits himself in the head every 5 minutes with a hammer and complains to the world;

“Owww, ow, my head hurts all the time!”

And you’ll likely get just about the same amount of sympathy from the world.

Believe. Go. Do.


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