Do people ever really grow up? Based on my experience? Some do. My friends, for example, are evolved and wise, whether they are thirty or sixty. But there’s a particular group of older women with whom I’m acquainted, who behave worse than high school teens. Believe me when I say, I know immature teenage behavior when I see it (having just spent my fourteenth year in high school). And these older ladies display it in abundance.
Oh, the intrigue, the drama, the rumors, the backstabbing! While it’s understandable behavior within the eighteen-and-younger demographic, it’s quite pathetic watching the Shakespearean dramas unfold amongst the AARP crowd.
Who cares who is dating whom? As long as they’re happy. Who gives a flying fuck who has been seen at a certain restaurant with (or without) a particular woman? A man has to eat. What difference does it make if he was seen buying groceries or shopping at Homegoods? Such inane nonsense! Who gives a rat’s ass if two consensual adults decide to think outside the box and eat fucking cake?
They do. These sad women who know their best years are behind them. Who look on with envy at anyone who has a spark of life left inside their aging bodies (I include myself in this category. There’s a lot of life left in these old bones).
Is it because their own lives are pitifully boring? That’s a safe yes. Do they meddle just to make themselves feel more important? Without a doubt. Did they flush their collective self-esteem down the metaphorical toilet many years ago? I’m running to OTB to put money on it.
My advice, ladies? Get a life and stop pushing your agenda onto others. Do you want to support your friend or turn his life into an episode of General Hospital, Geriatric Unit?
My lord! The drama, drama, drama they stir up, for no other reason than to make their own lives more interesting.
I’ll be honest, I have no appetite for their brand of friendship and recognize them for the women they are; fake, egocentric, meddlesome, immature and sad.
It appears they would like to see him with another certain someone. A woman with whom he has history, who is conveniently part of their friend group. She’s also a woman who used him in the past, mislead him in the present and could never give him the life he deserves; one in which he’s free to travel and explore without an anchor tied around his neck. I feel for her on some level. Her path isn’t easy and there’s no off ramp.
But don’t assume I’m part of the equation. He didn’t leave her for me. He left her to save himself, all on his own. Hardly a day went by over the past few months without us communicating; long, introspective messages. But he kept me completely in the dark regarding his relapse in judgment, until it was over.
All I want for him is to be happy. I wanted him to be free of my limitations, whether emotional or logistical. I loved him enough to let him go in the hopes he’d meet the ‘right’ woman. A woman who lives close by and could be there for him. A kind person he could travel with. Someone with whom he could share meals and listen to true crime podcasts, maybe watch Breaking Bad for the tenth time. Take rides on his boat, go kayaking to Lavender Island and look for purple sea glass.
He is who he is. Some men just can’t be alone and he picked the low hanging fruit. A relationship he didn’t have to pursue. One that required no effort at all to reestablish. When he eventually told me about their brief interlude, he paraphrased something I wrote back to me, “I didn’t love her; she was just easy.” Not easy in the slutty way. Easy, meaning convenient, eager and willing.
But they would never have freedom to roam and he saw the writing on the wall. I’m so proud of him for doing what he felt was best for his well-being, his future happiness and fulfillment. For standing up and saying, this isn’t enough for me.
If I was seeing him again (and I’m not saying I am), I wouldn’t share this information with the ladies. Why? Because it’s none of their fucking business! Whatever is or isn’t happening between us is nobody’s business but our own.
He won’t say it because he’s far too nice (and I think enjoys a little drama himself), but I have no problem relaying the message here and now.
Either support your friend, whatever his life choices, or get the fuck out of the way.
Those are your options. He’s not a doormat and I couldn’t care less what you think of me. I know who my friends are and they are fabulous, loyal and kind. They have my back.
In other words, they are nothing like you.