“Amy, you always tell people to imagine themselves as the main
character in a movie. Haven’t you ever seen a movie where best friends
wind up falling in love?” Mark asked.
We were emailing about his questionable relationship with Amanda, a
woman who was allegedly perfect for him based on the fact that they
worked in the same field, she was a gifted healer, and she owned a
successful practice.
Two such movies came to mind. In When Harry Met Sally,
Harry and Sally meet after college, hate each other, bump into one
another years later, become friends, and then wind up falling in love.
In Valentine’s Day, Jennifer Garner and Ashton Kutcher’s
characters are best friends in love with people who are all wrong for
them. In the end, they fall in love.
But in both stories, one isn’t pining away for the other, which made Mark’s situation a bit different.
He was willing to overlook the fact that Amanda expressed no interest
in pursuing anything more than what sounded to me like a friends-with-
benefits scenario. He reasoned that her painful childhood made it
difficult for her to connect.
She sounded great on paper and looked even better in person. But
something was missing. This went on for several years. Months would
go by without them seeing each another. He was convinced she’d come
around. It baffled him why it was taking so long. And I could
completely relate—to Amanda.
After a series of jerky boyfriends, I met “Mike”. I told myself that
men like him don’t come around every day. He never said an unkind
word. We shared many of the same interests. He was responsible, loyal,
and attentive. He was everything I could ever ask for in a boyfriend.
After being in a series of walking-on-eggshells relationships, it was a
relief to be with someone who never rocked the boat.
The trouble was, he never rocked my world either.
I was comfortable, but not excited. We agreed about most everything,
so there were no arguments. Over time, I grew restless. I started
looking at other men, which was unlike me. Something was missing, and I
knew what it was. I’d just grown so accustomed to telling myself it
wasn’t important.
It was the butterflies. I told him the truth of how I felt from the
beginning—that I loved who he was and enjoyed his company tremendously,
but there were no sparks. He tried to convince me that my feelings were
enough—that over time those “in love” feelings fade anyway, so maybe
they weren’t so important. I hung in there, enjoying his friendship and
affections, holding out hope that some day, they’d turn into
more—wondering if I could live without the sparks and settle for
friendship.
But that was just it. I was settling. Not for a less-than-wonderful
man, but for a less-than-wonderful feeling toward the man. He was the
kind of man I wanted to be in love with, but I just wasn’t.
The truth of the matter is, attraction isn’t a choice. You either
have it for someone or you don’t. It’s one of life’s greatest
mysteries—why we feel it for some and not for others—how two seemingly
different people can wind up together. It’s a feeling that can trip us
up, cause us to overlook other, equally important traits that make for a
great relationship, and to make poor choices in mates. But it’s also a
feeling that when combined with deep friendship and
relationship-enhancing qualities, can pull people through tough times
and make the differences exciting and worth exploring. It was a feeling
I decided I wasn’t willing to live without.
It occurred to me that what was missing didn’t reside in him, but
within me. He was everything I could have ever asked for in a
boyfriend, because he was all I could ask for. I didn’t believe
that I could have the kind of relationship I truly wanted. I didn’t
believe it was meant for me—that wanting it all was unrealistic.
Where
did this belief come from? Had I hardened my heart after my divorce?
Was it the result of some childhood trauma? It didn’t matter. The
truth was I was settling, Mike was settling, and so was my friend, Mark.
Yes, sometimes in the movies, two best friends wind up falling in
love. But if your life were a movie, would you want to play the part of
the person settling for a relationship without sparks, or the one who
settled for someone who wasn’t that into you, hoping they’d someday come
around?
No. Friendship isn’t enough. You need the sparks.
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