But you're my best friend!

Those are quite possibly the most painful words in the English language.

What? You want to know why I'm so maudlin? Well, chicas I was talking to an old friend today and he was telling me all about the "girls" he's currently involved with -- the random makeouts, the one who's making him jump every time the phone rings -- and it took me back.

Back to that one moment, when I'm staring at the most beautiful boy in the world. The boy who's just told me he simply has to talk to me, making my heart do stupid little flippy things. And then he tells me that because he loves me, he wants my opinion. My heart stops flipping, stops beating as it waits. And then he says, "So, is it too soon to ask (insert name of evil one here) to marry me? Do you think I'm rushing it? I really want an honest opinion, here and you're my best friend."

Let me tell you, boys, this isn't the compliment you think it is. In fact it's one step up from saying, "well, you're not thin, but you're still cute". It's one of those statements that make us think of running pencils through your brain stems just to see if it actually kills you or if you've stopped using the organ long ago. It's the epitome of you're like my sister or I don't love you that way -- but said so much more innocuously that it's almost impossible to hate the speaker. So instead you hate yourself just a bit more.

Could you be someone's home?

I could be someone's home if I fell down -Lisa Loeb, When all the stars were falling...

The line itself is simple, almost child-like with the reverence Loeb gives to it, but come on, could you be someone's home? Think on it. The idea of being someone's safe place -- the place where they can be themselves, drop the pretension and not fear scorn. Scary stuff when you scratch the surface.

Think on it: when you fall from grace, step down from your pedestal, all you have left is yourself: the essence of you. Is that really enough? Is the person beneath the clever facade really as interesting as you think she is? Can she sustain a relationship with someone, be strong enough to be their safe place, yet vulnerable enough to need a safe place? And if not, then how do we prepare her for such a task?

And more importantly, how do we gather the courage to fall?

Stupid, Stupid, Stupid

Today, I want to talk about something that matches my mood: the ex who goes astray. Now I say this matches my mood because I happen to be suffering from not one but two "-itis" type things. The joys of having tonsils, people.

That out of the way, I want to talk about the one who not so much got away, but went away. This particular boy was known as Chew-toy and wasn't so much a great date, but a great *friend* if you know what I mean. Chew-toy was the best accessory a girl could have: he cleaned up incredibly well, was a great lay, willing to try new things and had already seen me every way possible.

No, really. Chewy was there when I was an awkward preteen (we weren't speaking then, but knew of each other -- it was a small town), a chubby awkward teenager and as a sexually agressive young adult. He'd seen me in formal wear, in sleepover wear (he liked to crash slumber parties), in casual wear and in nothing at all. I've greeted him in slut boots, full make-up and a shirt cut down to there. I've also went over at 2 am wearing sweats, with Bride of Frankenstein hair. Together we raced upstairs, swam naked and had outrageous public arguments. We were starting to become the stuff legends were made of.

Then something went very wrong.

I decided it was time to move on. To find true love and let the sexual aspect of our involvement end. It worked well, at first. I lost a great lay, but gained a great friend. I became single again, we played at it, but never became lovers again. It seemed we were destined to have a Hollywood friendship.

Then he met someone. And that was the end. He was coerced into cutting off contact with his female friends, and dissappeared.

I hear rumors. They married, they have a daughter. It hurt at first, because, he'd been clear he didn't want kids with me. I didn't either, but pregnancy scares do happen.

It isn't the sex I mourned. It almost isn't even my friend I miss. But it makes me sad to think "he's done". The guy who had such big plans has dropped out of college, given up his post-grad dreams and taken a job. It's baffling. He's grown up, or so I've heard. It isn't just that I miss Chewy, it's that the guy I knew doesn't live here anymore. I'm still the same, but he isn't.

I don't which of us to feel more sad for.