What do *you* want?

Last night I came to the realisation that about 95% of the people I have considered (either now or in the past) my friends have had ulterior motives.

On Monday night I met M – P’s old flatmate – for a drink to celebrate his new job.  We’ve always got on quite well but I thought nothing of it other than we were friends.  When we met, he was drinking martinis, and drank much quicker than me; I had one glass of wine and he managed 3 drinks.

We had fun, as always, just talking and joking about – that’s normal, right?  That’s not flirting, not in my opinion.  But, perhaps M got the wrong idea.  Because when we left he admitted he had something to tell me. I got a horrible feeling in my stomach at this point.  Then he said he liked me. I had no idea what to do. Then, he kissed me. Twice. I still had no idea what to do. I gave him the lets just be friends speech and left.

I called Boyfriend and told him. He was no help; he thought it was hilarious. But I was pretty upset. How could I have been so clueless? Was it me? Had I done something to lead M on? Boyfriend said that he couldn’t blame M, “because you’re gorgeous”. Again, no help. Thanks Boyfriend.

I didn’t really sleep very well that night and the more I thought about it the more annoyed I got. I genuinely thought M was just a nice guy and I thought we could be friends. But I don’t know how long he liked me for, and how much of his attitude towards me was because he had an ulterior motive. So I trusted that he was nice and was completely naive and gullible.

Once I started along that path I started thinking about other friends who I’ve assumed were genuine but had ulterior motives for being around me. T just liked me because she thought I made her look good – I was her fat, ugly non-model friend. Evil-ex-best-friend just wanted me to sing at her wedding. A consultancy colleague liked me in that way too whereas I just thought he was being nice and helping me out.

So, I’ve started to wonder if people are just all barstewards? So many people aren’t genuine; they always want something. I just want friends that I can trust not to take advantage of my naivety.  Why can’t people just be nice?

I’m not calling you a liar

But don’t lie to me.

Do I have a sign on my head that says I’m gullible, just lie to me, I’ll believe anything you say, it doesn’t matter if it hurts me or not?

Apparently I do because people keep lying to me.  I don’t even care about the lies, I care about why.  What is it about me that makes people lie to me?  Am I judgemental?  Untrustworthy?  What is it?

What would you do…

… if you were in my shoes? If you had a friend, who you really cared about, but who had badly hurt your feelings? What would you do if this friend had asked for, and been given, several chances to make it up to you, and to prove that he can be trusted, yet had blown each one? What would you do if you were lying awake at night trying to convince yourself that your friend didn’t mean to hurt you, again? Would you give him another chance?

But (because there’s always a ‘but’) would you make the same decision if you knew this friend wasn’t happy? If you knew that he was going through some stuff and was having a hard time of things? And if you knew that once upon a time he was a good friend but had somehow lost himself along the way? Then what would you do? Would you keep giving him chances at the expense of your own feelings?

In this situation, I don’t know where to draw the line. I know what it feels like when someone gives up on you, so I don’t want to give up on P, but there’s only so much I can take.

What am I doing?

On Sunday I asked P if he wanted to go and see this play, and he said yeah, any day but the 20th. I wanted to go on the 20th. So I asked him if he could ditch whatever it was, and he said no. It was red rag to a bull. He’s ditched me before, why couldn’t he ditch this? I stopped myself from reacting angrily, and said I’d talk to him later. But that episode taught me that I wasn’t ok with it. I wasn’t ok with him.

Rationalisation

Something just popped into my head that I was thinking about in the coffee shop.  I zoned out for a bit after my second skinny latte; I just stared at the giant mirror on the wall opposite me that was high enough to avoid reflecting my image but low enough to catch the traffic outside. I watched the cars and buses go past, and I saw people walking along the street; some couples, some groups, some people on their own; old ladies, students, kids and all sorts.

My attention was drawn to two guys stood by the open window, smoking. Their laugher was easy and genuine. I couldn’t make out what they were talking about, but whatever it was kept them both entertained and amused.  They just seemed so comfortable, like they didn’t have to try. I thought to myself, have I ever had that kind of friendship?  Has it ever been easy? I had to conclude that the answer was no.

On second thoughts…

I’m starting to wonder if I made the right call with P.  I was thinking a lot about him today, and I really doubt that he can do the things he promised he could.  I doubt that he can change anything.  I want to believe him.  But I know how good he is at lying.  How do I know he wasn’t lying to me that night?

He said he wouldn’t be so ignorant.  He said he would be more careful with my feelings.  He said he would do what it took not to drop me again.  He said he would have more respect for me.  He said he would try to make things work.

But I don’t think I can believe him.  I feel exposed.  I put my cards on the table on Tuesday night and as much as he was receptive I don’t think he did the same.  I’m worried that he has kept the bad news inside.  But can I really bring this up again?  I felt so bad for ambushing him; he said I was right to do so but I’ve got confession-regret.

I thought I was finally getting somewhere.  But I feel so vulnerable.  It’s scaring me a little.  I don’t want to get hurt again.

Peace at last?

I met P last night.  It was fairly awkward.  But I have some peace now.  I say some, because there are still a lot of worries floating round in my head.  But I think the worst of it is over.

I did feel quite guilty making him come out.  I knew he had a lurgy of some kind (turned out to be a cold) and that he’d not been sleeping because of it.  But I knew that it was a now-or-never moment.  I’m tied up for most of this week now, so it would be into next week before I’d get to speak to him, and by then I might have chickened out altogether.  So guilt aside, I went to meet him at a pub near his house last night.  I had butterflies in my stomach, and felt almost nauseous.  I got there early, so I had time to calm down; I didn’t want to bail at the last minute. 

Haunted

I’ve been really tired and cranky for the past few days.  I was hoping it was just the excesses of Christmas but really I was in denial that I’ve been having absolutely awful sleeps, full of strange dreams.  I can’t fall asleep easily because my head is going a mile a minute and when I wake up I feel so agitated that it seems like I’ve not slept at all.

The source of this sleep disturbance?  None other than the current bad-guy of my life, P.

My own fault?

I’m having an incredibly unproductive day.  Largely because I am sitting at my desk daydreaming – imagining things I could have said yesterday to P, wondering how I became so insignificant to him – and trying to calm myself down and move on.

As part of that process I’ve started to wonder:  Is this my own fault?

Back to black

Yesterday should have been a good evening.  P texted me earlier in the day asking if we could go for a drink.  Naturally I abandoned my gym plans and said yes, because I’m a pushover and a moron.  We went to the German Market, which was nice actually because I hadn’t been this year.  He was telling me about his day, which sounded like it sucked, and about work and his plans.  I’d brought him some of my Christmas biscuits to cheer him up.  It seemed to work.

Until we’d picked up our glasses of mulled wine, it was a good evening.  Then he mentioned that he was going to the Western Isles for Hogmanay.  I was a bit taken aback, because a few weeks ago he’d said he was going to be in Edinburgh for Hogmanay, and I asked if I could hang out with him because I was sick of having miserable, lonely evenings on the 31st December.  He said I could, and, knowing how flaky he is, I asked him to “promise?” and he did.  Apparently he didn’t mean it.