on coffee, masculinity, and the joys of being friends with boys

Z: hi

Kelly: hi. how was your day?

Z:  ball busting

Kelly: what happened?

Z: well I had a great time today having coffee with this beautiful woman…she had this low-cut top on that had me drooling. But when I dropped her off she refused to kiss me

Kelly: what a bitch! you should drop her and never talk to her again

Z: I wanted to kiss her

Kelly: I understand. Here’s what I don’t understand: men. Maybe. Do you think I ‘get’ men? As in, understand them?

Z: No you don’t

Kelly: Explain

Z: in my view… you have this view of men that is somehow not grounded in reality… they constantly disappoint you by being typical men and acting as men do…that tells me that you don’t really understand their make up

Kelly: mmmmmmmmmmmm. good insight. I’ve specifically decided to throw out my fantasies, and just deal with people, as they are, for real. That’s been really rewarding, so far… So tell me about a man’s makeup

Z: A man’s makeup is that we are basically fuck-ups…

Kelly: what?!

Z: We dont have any depth or tolerance for pain. We see everything in terms of… “will I get fucked?” We are not emotional creatures so an onslaught of emotion from a woman has us running for the hills or joining the foreign legion.

Kelly: That sounds like true lies. Like a cartoon of masculinity, babe. How do you explain fatherhood? Or friendship? We’re friends and I’m not fucking you. You give me emotional support, and love, and advice, and ask nothing, so you’re deeper than what you just described. And I have driven you batty with emotional demands at times, and you’re still here. Not in the foreign legion, or in the hills, even though you’re not getting fucked.

Wait…I’m checking my purse for your cojones.

Nope.

Nothing. You must still have them. Or maybe you left them at the coffee shop.

Z: I am talking in generalities. After that it boils down to the individual

Kelly: it always does, for sure. This man/woman business is kind of bullshit. The issue is more temperament than gender. If I were dating women instead of men, I’d still have the same Issues. I’d find women who retreated from my emotional needs just like I’m SUPERB at finding men who do that, too.

Z: You have wanted more from men than they are capable of delivering

Kelly: OH YES. So very true babe. You were one of those, but you know I love you anyway.

Z: You don’t love me

Kelly: WHAT? do you really think that? You mean the world to me. I reference things you say, in my own head. You’re part of me

Z: Really

Kelly: Really. I talk about you, and the things you’ve taught me

Z: What do you say’?

Kelly: To myself or to other people? To myself: you’re one of the voices in my head now. Part of my decision making process. To other people: you’re my rock.

I’m so lucky. I have you. I have ___ and ___, too. Although I’m a woman who apparently doesn’t understand men romantically, my life overflows with male friendship. I have three amazing men in my corner, absolutely and unwaveringly. Offering friendship. Asking nothing of me except to just be me. And showing up, consistently. It is almost better than a boyfriend.

Unfortunately no one is having sex with me.

*le sigh*

Z: I’ll have sex with you.

Kelly: No you won’t, but thanks for the offer. Hey, babe, can I write about this conversation? About your fucked up definition of masculinity?

Z: Yes. But end it with the fact that you decided to have sex with me out of pity…

Kelly: Nope. No pity sex for you baby. You get hot lovin’ or nothing…so let’s err on the side of nothing.

Z: lol. love ya babes

Kelly: me too. And thanks for the coffee.

About the author

Kelly Diels I'm Kelly Diels. I'm a writer, the founder of Cleavage (The Lines that Shape Us), and I wrote this blog post just for you. You can also find me on Twitter and darlin', please do. xoxo, K

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