My thoughts on the friendzone
Original post is by wendycorduroy, can't find it, the account got moved and post deleted, and the image isn't loading properly so here's the link
And here's my story.
When I was 12, there was Stefan. We would walk every day in the mornings talking about Skylanders, my favorite game at the time. He seemed to be the only person who knew what they were and didn't think me childish for liking a game like that. We would walk in the mornings when my usual partner in crime wasn't there yet. We'd talk over lunch and during recess. About everything from games to psychology and heavy medical topics that would've gotten pity from really anyone else. We were sort of in the same friend group, both of us outsiders, but we found company in each other. He asked me if I'd date him one day when we were alone on a play structure, just sitting up high where it was quiet and I asked weren't we too young for things like that? He said no, that everyone else was doing it already. I was astonished to find out it wasn't all a joke, so I declined as gently as I could. The next day, I could've find him. In class, he didn't talk to me. He left a note in my locker saying he'd need time away from me to deal with his emotions. I was confused but let him do his thing.
When I was 13 there was Stefan again. It had been somewhere around a year after he last asked, wondering if I had changed my mind. By now, I was well aware of asexuality and declined his offer, explaining it to him and assuring that I wasn't doing this because i was upset with him or anything. (I didn't understand any of this stuff and I still don't, but I didn't know what words to use). Again, he left a note for me saying he'd need some time to get over his feelings.
When I was 14 there was Stefan again and there was our (his and my) friend Jason.
The day of our middle school graduation, they called it, we had a school dance. I had brought a notebook and pencil with me because I just wanted to sit in the corner and write, since reading books weren't quite allowed - I had asked - and i didn't have a choice not to go. For the past 6 years, I had never really been fond of him, but that year it seemed like he really needed a friend and I decided to give him a try. I would sit with him when he was alone, check in with him and let him talk about what was going on. if he didn't want me to be there, I'd leave. If he didn't want to talk, I'd just do my own thing and stay nearby. All through middle school, we were the only two during slow dances who were left standing alone and I remember the first time it happened, we saw each other, shrugged, and danced. We chatted a bit, it started rumors, of course, but we assured each other we were just friends. At the start of the event, he asked for my notebook and pencil because he needed to write a note for someone. I said sure, but please make it fast. I checked in multiple times if he was done and he kept saying 'not yet', 'not yet'.
Because of him, nobody left me alone. The student council tried to drag me up to dance, some people tried multiple times. It wasn't until I finally stood and just stared with the most annoying expression that they finally gave up. Some of the teachers even tried to get me to dance and I was getting more pissed by the minute. FINALLY at the end of the dance, right as he was leaving, he gave me a folded piece of paper and returned my notebook and pencil, instructing me not to open it until I got home. He then immediately left and I, being upset, immediately read it out loud to my friends. it was a confession, a Thomas Sanders pickup line ("they'll never find your body...more beautiful than I do"), and his email. Despite the overwhelming resentment over what happened at the dance, I sent a nicely worded email turning him down and he never talked to me again. A couple years later I found out he SA'ed the closest thing I have to a sister. he put together that I was reading their messages in real time - she wanted me to see - and he got extremely upset. I remember simultaneous rage and fear that he could've done it to me, but he did do it to someone I care about. The confusion over why someone would think that was okay.
Mind you, I was never touchy with either of these people.
When I was 15, there was Stefan again, and this time over text, asking if I had changed my mind. We shared classes in high school so avoiding me wasn't quite possible, but he didn't seem very hopeful this time anyways. I had changed my name and come out as trans at this point.
When I was 16, there was Stefan again. Somewhere between 10 and midnight. He asked if there was any chance at all that I had changed my mind and I agreed to date him because I felt so awful about hurting him, but the moment I agreed I was flooded with dread. I couldn't sleep, I felt sick, but I was giving it a shot on the basis that he knew and understood that this was an experiment. That I didn't feel the way he did, but I was willing to try. We would meet up before school and just hang out. One time my friends met up with me and pulled me away with an excuse. They made sure we were out of earshot and eyeshot then asked if I was okay because I "looked ready to run" and they had never seen me that on edge before. They gave me the courage to break up with him, assuring my wellbeing was more important than this, but that wasn't the whole story.
At one point, he asked if he could deadname and misgender me to his family because he wasn't comfortable with someone thinking he was gay. I was not okay with that. My deadname physically hurts me to hear - that was how I figured out I wasn't okay with it. My boss called my name and it felt like I was being stabbed in the heart. I felt sick and faint. I wasn't about to let him do this. I asked him multiple times what he wanted out of this. He said holding hands, walking around and kissing every now and again. I was fine until he said kissing, which made nausea surge against my throat. I hate kissing for two reasons. 1, I just think it's gross, and 2, I have been forced to kiss and forcefully kissed by relatives. It's not something I'm okay with.
When I finally broke up with him, it was the week before Valentine's. Neither of us had plans, neither of us were fond of the day, and i couldn't take anymore. I want to say he had just gotten us matching bracelets, but every time I tried to mention breaking up the topic would switch to some kind gesture before I could even type the message. I finally broke up with him and I could've cried from the relief. Until he started accusing me of using him, that he was just an experiment to me, that I didn't actually care and didn't feel the same. One of the breaking points was I asked him if he'd ever go to one of my concerts - hearing loss doesn't stop either of us from enjoying music - and he said yes but he wouldn't enjoy himself. He'd just go because it was me.
It's been another 5 years since that happened. I have tried to stay in touch with him over the years because all through this we had stayed friends, and we stayed friends before so why couldn't we now. To date he is the biggest horror story nerd I know, and he's hard of hearing too so I never got dragged for not hearing properly. Every now and again, I'll miss talking to him. I'll miss his company and his friendship, but then I have to wonder if he really actually ever cared at all or if I was just someone he liked.
Would he ever genuinely be happy for what I'd accomplish or would it only ever just be because he liked me?
To everyone who has ever been friendzoned and complains about it, at least you know they genuinely enjoyed your company for who you were.
To everyone who has ever been romance-zoned, I am so sincerely sorry for the loss of your friend.
