After a particularly bad breakup, I was re-evaluating my past choices in boyfriends and felt like I was missing something.
In the midst of dramatically labeling the entire male race as untrustworthy and deceitful, my thoughts turned to who I could trust.
The question of our dating came up like this: Jake and I had gone back to his apartment for a nightcap after having dinner together ... But he told me he'd been mulling it over for a while, and he was serious about wanting to give things a go. And not having Jake in my life seemed unimaginably painful. Maybe incompatible phermones are to blame--who knows?
I had a great time with him--we were always laughing; always talking about interesting things; always comfortable discussing our emotions, fears and insecurities. In other words, it was hard to imagine a more ideal boyfriend. for whatever decidedly peculiar reason, I'd never felt an overwhelming urge to get it on with him.
But what if you were already best friends from the start?
Plus, he's very tall and quite handsome--an indubitably attractive guy (whom the ladies generally love).
At the same time, after considering it for a minute or two, I realized that if I give it a try, my reluctance could create a weird dynamic which could very well do serious damage to the friendship--maybe as much as a failed romance would. --because there doesn't seem to be much else to explain it.
Juei, 26, says, “You already feel so comfortable around them and you don’t have to stress about making a good impression.” But, as I discovered the hard way, this level of total comfort can be a double-edged sword.
My aforementioned friend and I did start dating, but because I was so relaxed and not worried about what he thought of me, I ended up on the other end of the spectrum.