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Friends-with-Chemistry
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Friends-with-chem·is·try (noun): Friends who are sexually attracted to each other, but maintain zipper discipline. (thanks, Urban Dictionary)
How do you know which friends-with-chemistrys are actually friends-with-benefits or boyfriends in disguise? If there’s one thing I hate to see, it’s something not living up to its full potential. And as a gal with a lot of guy friends, sometimes I can’t help but wonder if I’m missing out on someone I already know.
It really comes down to the age old debate of if men and women can, indeed, be friends. A wise guy friend—the Jerry to my Elaine—once told me that when it comes down to it, guy friends fundamentally want to have sex with girl friends. Not in a “must bone” kinda way, but in a “if I were to put it out there” kinda way… to simplify it obtusely.
It got me thinking—they say everything is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power. So, who has all the power? Apparently, I do. Well, women (at least in hetero relationships, assuming Jerry’s theory translates outside our circle). The down side to this is that the bulk of analysis for potential gratification falls on my plate. Women’s plates. If I have a friend-with-chemistry, I can essentially be assured, pending he’s available and able, that if I made a bold move, a la showing up in a trench coat and nothing else except maybe a bottle of scotch, I could get laid. Theoretically, I can always get laid. That’s nice, I guess. (Except for the really depressing can of worms it opens about me not having sex…)
The problem is, taking advantage of a friend-with-chemistry with whom you’re not meant to cross that line with can have some disastrous outcomes. With great power to get laid comes great power to ruin friendships. On the other hand, sometimes starting as friends and building the chemistry can be the start of a great relationship, so how’s a girl to know?! It begs the question: is it better to risk losing a friend for a bit of booty and potential opportunity, or to maintain that zipper discipline and potentially miss out on a great match? What do you think?
I’ve been wracking my brain; Jerry and I had a weird moment recently. Well, not weird, but different. We cuddled. We NEVER cuddle. We have been friends for nearly a decade without crossing the romantic barrier (except that one really drunk kiss in Mexico 9 years ago, which we’ve never talked about.) We’ve been having platonic sleepovers for years. We either sleep-literally-on opposite sides of his huge bed, or he sleeps on my couch. Until last weekend, where he fell asleep in my bed, and we cuddled.
I suppose the fact that I find our cuddling weird answers my own question. Jerry’s not some unrequited love story I should have written. Dang.