Strictly Platonic

Over at Slate.com, Juliet Lapodis has been writing an interesting series on male-female platonic friendships. She starts by talking about her friendship with Jeff. She goes on to discuss the evolution of cross-sex friendship in movies (When Harry Met Sally) and in history. I read every one of her installments because I have a relationship similar to the one she has with her friend Jeff. Actually mine is more like Brandon and Sue. But what I find interesting, yet upsetting, is the anger that comes out in some of the comments. Basically, according to these people, men and women can't be friends without sex getting in the way, and if a man and woman are friends without sex, there is something wrong with one or both of them. (One of the most interesting essays, in my opinion, is Jeff's view of his friendship with Juliet.)

I don't understand the anger and disbelief about cross-sex friendships.

In high school I took several lit classes from this one teacher. I couldn't stand him, and he didn't like me. But  we learned to get along because I loved the books we read, and I did very well in his classes. One thing he said that really stuck with me was this: A friendship with the member of the opposite sex can be the most fulfilling relationship you will ever have.

I had a good boy friend in high school. As in a boy who was my friend. That's not to say that I didn't have a crush on him at one point or that we didn't mess around (sorry, Mom). But in the end, he was a just a really good friend.

After that, I had plenty of friends who were boys, but it wasn't until I met DF that I developed one of the strongest, borderline intimate relationship with a guy I've ever had. But this relationship never once involved any sort of physical involvement. Now, I have another guy friend I am just as close to, but he's gay. Funny thing is, I've kissed my gay friend (as in kissed) but I've never kissed DF. Don't get all excited, we were drunk and playing a college version of spin the bottle (again... sorry, Mom).

I knew of DF before I met him; we'd had a studio drawing class together freshman year of college. I noticed him but never talked to him. At some point, I stopped going to class. Later he told me he missed having me in class because I was the only interesting one there. I met DF when he began dating my friend GR. But it was another year or so before DF and I really got to know each other.

DF was quite and shy. I was loud and obnoxious. DF was contemplative and level-headed. I said what I felt when I felt it. We were an odd pair, I'm sure. We got to know each other when we became roommates. I needed a roommate and he needed a place to live, so that was that. Others friends moved in with us later, but for three months, it was just DF and I. I had no job and no money. DF worked at a pizza place (the place I eventually worked, too), and he would come home at 12:30 every night with a large pizza, two six-packs of beer, and two packs of smokes. We'd stay up until 3:00am drinking, eating, talking, and smoking. Once or twice we'd stay up long enough to see the sunrise. In the morning/afternoon I'd wake up to find donuts and pastries from the shop down the street. DF fed me and took care of me that summer. In the future, there were many times when DF took care of me.

If this had been anyone else, this would've been the beginning of a romantic relationship. We talked about everything--and I mean everything. We grew to trust each other. But for whatever reason, the romance never happened. We never held hands. We never cuddled. We never did anything. We just clicked.

After a year in that apartment, we looked for a place of our own, but because we lived in a small town, many places wouldn't rent to us--because we he was a boy and I was a girl. Eventually we moved into a house with some other friends. We still had our thing: I'd wait for him to come home from work, and we'd stand in the kitchen, have a few beers, and talk about what was happening in our lives. There was never any tension between us or between DF and any guy I dated, but there was between me and GR. GR and I had known each other since we both arrived at school. She was older than DF and I, and by this time, she had graduated and only saw DF once a month, if that often. When she'd visit, DF and I still had our after-work ritual, and this didn't go over too well with her. We learned how to work around it. I'm not sure if GR ever knew that the most common topic of our conversations was her.

There were a few people outside of our social circle who knew DF and I and thought we were a couple. I can understand why. There was a level of comfort and intimacy between us. We would bicker over stupid things in the grocery store. He would verbally and physically poke me until I'd get mad and them tell him I was never speaking to him again. And the kicker: We lived and worked together. I don't think either of us ever bothered to correct them. I'm not sure DF realized people thought this. And I knew if I tried to tell them there was nothing going on, I'd get that look. You know, that look you get when someone thinks you are pining away for something you can't have. In the end, I didn't correct them because, well, just because.

Once, years later, I told a friend I wanted a guy just like DF but not DF. She didn't get it. If I wanted someone like DF why not DF? Because I wasn't attracted to DF. Never had been. He's a good looking guy, but there was never a spark. And like Brandon and Sue in Lapodis' series, the thought of a sexual relationship with DF felt incestuous, wrong, and just plain gross. One night in college, while sitting around with friends, we were making predictions about where we would be in twenty years. Several people predicted that DF and I would end up married. We both smiled and shook our heads. He predicted he'd be married to GR but he and I would still be roommates because he would be the only person willing to put up with me. And GR would still be getting mad that we were sitting in the kitchen drinking beer.

This was all twenty-plus years ago. DF and GR have been married for fifteen years. Before the wedding, DF didn't have a real bachelor party, but at the end of the drink-fest that was the night before his wedding (Mom... again, sorry), I ended up in the bar with all the boys. When someone commented it was the bachelor party I protested because I was a girl. DF told me that meant I was the stripper... and I told him to fuck off. I cried at their wedding because I was so happy for both of them. They were two of my closest friends, and if there were ever two people who were meant for each other, it was them.

I don't see or talk to them as much as I used to or want to. For a long time, I'd see them at least once a year and we'd all talk on the phone about once a month. Each time we got together, DF and I would disappear for a couple hours just to have some time to ourselves. I saw them both last year for the first time in almost five years. As we parted ways, DF gave me one of his big, strong hugs, the kind of hug that makes you feel safe, and said, "I wish you lived closer." He broke my heart--because I really missed him.

I guess the purpose of this post was to answer the nay-sayers of Lapodis' series. Men and women can have deep, meaningful relationships without sex. I feel sorry for those who have never had this type of relationship or who think it can't happen. Because my high school lit teacher was right, my friendship with DF was, is, and always will be, one of the most fulfilling relationships of my life.