Don't misunderstand me about what my relationship is; it's amazing, he's amazing, and I don't want to sound as if I am ungrateful that he's my best friend, too. I'm glad my relationship is rooted in a friendship as opposed to, say, lust or greed or any of the other emotions that compel two individuals to pair up. But to paraphrase Belle's boyfriend on "Secret Diary of a Call Girl," my boyfriend is a friend to whom I want to do things I don't want to do to my other friends. And that's where the mental compartmentalization comes in. It has occurred to me that if my boyfriend were to be (God forbid) hit by a Walmart 18-wheeler, I would be isolated. I would be truly alone then and that's just not sensible for my own well-being. A boyfriend shouldn't be everything to me, right? What lovers have together isn't the same thing as what friends have together and I don't want any obfuscation.
Besides, it's not fair to him to be inundated with all my stuff. Being someone's one and only doesn't mean he should be the one and only person you talk to about your personal life. He, after all, has three very close friends in addition to me with whom he can talk about stuff. Does any one friend really want to hear about every single perceived slight that occurs at work, or every snotty comment from your sister, or every pair of boots you just have to have? I sure wouldn't, if I were someone's one and only close friend. I know it's a disingenuous reason to look for some more friends, but I partially need to widen my social circle so I don't suffocate the poor guy. (Try as he might, he's just not as interested in Anthropologie shopping sprees as I am.)
I am trying to make an effort to befriend new people; I'm just a little shy, so it's hard to be aggressive. But, hey, someone needs to get a manicure and see "New Moon" with me and it's not going to be my boyfriend.
Written by Jessica Wakeman for The Frisky