On my mind for a while, I thought I would commit to blog how I’ve been feeling and what happened with my friend. We’ll call him M.S. for he was the classic metrosexual.
M.S. and I had become friends through work (Adobe). I trained him, as a matter of fact. He came over and had Thanksgiving with Strawberry Blonde and me. When snow hit the Portland area this past January, M.S. shared his first snow experience playing with us and our children.
When office waters grew politically treacherous for M.S., I helped steer him through the storm. He was there with valid (if bombastic) advice when I needed it (or when he thought I did). In inner city parlance, I had his back and he mine.
We hung out together often, though it would have been more frequent were I single like he. After he met Strawberry Blonde and found that they liked one another as well, M.S. came around more often. He considered me, he said on more than one occassion, his best friend.
Then M.S. met a boy. Classic story: Boy meets boy, falls in love, blows off friends and forgets there’s a world beyond the one relationship.
My old friend The probably believes that this is what happened when I first began dating Strawberry Blonde (except it was a boy meets girl thing), though I recall many opportunities for chess games and boys’ nights out that The shot down.
With M.S., however, he threw himself completely and wholly into the boyfriend’s life. I was not the only one of M.S.’s friends whose phone sat silent. The only relationship that existed for M.S. was the one with the boyfriend. M.S. spent time only with the boyfriend’s friends and not his own. Unless I called (and nagged) him first, I wouldn’t hear from M.S. From his other friends, I heard similar tales. This went on for several months.
At first, I thought perhaps M.S. simply didn’t want to share the boyfriend, that he wanted to keep the relationship unto themselves as long as possible. We all get that way in the beginning of new, exciting relationships, don’t we? There’s a period when we have something new and thrilling and just plain ours. And, for at least a little while, we want to keep it just ours.
When M.S. didn’t share, I wondered if he were afraid of being judged.


