"...you're gonna see it's our destiny..."

Until recently, in my memory, I have never had a friend leave me. Naturally, this is because with few exceptions, every relationship I had came with some sort of expiration criteria.

Expiration criteria for males (when I was between the ages of 13-21):

1. We've spent one-on-one time together more than twice in the past week.

2. I made the mistake of telling you something personal (even if it was just that I like to sleep with a pillow).

3. We went on a date alone (not with other couples).

4. You think you care about me.

5. You kissed me.

At the point when three or more of those items had been fulfilled, operation "please leave me alone because I need to be away from you" came into play. Fortunately, most teen-age boys do not have the stamina to resist such an operation, and with three exceptions I was successful in terminating the relationships, leaving the poor young men confused and a little bit angry. It wasn't manipulative on my part; I was simply responding to the fight-or-flight instinct they raised in me. And of course, I really didn't like boys very much, so if the kissing part happened, it was very possible that I reacted a bit violently. And that's all I have to say about that.

Of the three who resisted my efforts, one ended up with a bloody nose while he listened to me scream at him to never touch me again (but he was persistent anyway--he still kept asking me out on dates--I have to admire his tenacity); one became a very good friend who never knew anything about me, but was happy simply to spend time with me; and one I grew to love and appreciate and marry, because his resistance was always in the form of wanting what was best for me, supporting me in every instance, and taking me grocery shopping in his cute little car.

Expiration criteria for females (romantic):

1. You know too much about me.

2. I might be attracted to you, but you're smothering me.

3. You want to tell me what to do.

4. You're too possessive and I hate that.

Only one person resisted the expiration criteria--and she nearly made me crazy. I eventually made it clear to her that I was not in any position, emotionally, to love anyone and she left me alone. I was amazed at how much regret and relief I felt. Further study let me understand that the relationship had become dependent on her part and was on its way to becoming codependent, so my instincts in this particular case, were spot on. Interestingly, I still have intermittent contact with this person and I think we're friends--difficult to say, really.

Expiration criteria for females (non-romantic):

1. You make me want to scream when you're with me because you're driving me crazy.

2. You know too much about me.

3. We don't laugh at the same things.

4. You're too emotional.

5. I want to spend more time with you than I think I should.

6. I want to talk with you all the time.

7. 5 and 6 are happening, but I'm not romantically interested, so I find this confusing.

Oddly, every female friend I've had has resisted my friendship expiration efforts. The only way I have successfully been able to "end" those relationships is to move to a different state, or become immersed in work. But when I encounter former friends, they don't seem to think they're "former". They feel we're still good friends, want to make plans for lunches and get-togethers, and have not understood that I'm trying to be a solitary person. And my stupid need for human companionship responds to their efforts and I find us being friends once again. So...expiration efforts for female friends = ultimate fail.

I suppose I'm looking at this because every friendship termination in my life before 2005, was instigated by me. That's sort of a powerful position to be in, albeit lonely and pointless.

So, I have finally matured enough to recognize the need for life-long friends--even close, good friends who talk with me frequently and venture into the wastelands where I live to come visit me. And the amazing thing is that now I'm the person who gets left behind, or asked to leave due to someone else's friendship expiration efforts (FEE). It seems to be a common theme in human relationships.

During a conversation recently, which sort of felt like a FEE on the part of the person who was not me, I came to a decision which I have since voiced on more than one occasion. The decision is that I no longer invest in FEEs. I have come up with a new directive in my not-related-by-blood-or-marriage relationships:

1. If I've taken the time to get to know you, and allow you to know me, that must mean something.

2. If we've been friends longer than a year, I'm not willing to discard that effort simply because one of us (not me) wants to.

3. You know too much about me for me to allow you to just go away.

4. If our friendship ends it will be completely because you choose that, because I will do everything in my power to nurture, revitalize, and enjoy our relationship.

5. If you want me to go away, dropping hints or just ignoring me won't be enough. You're going to have to tell me straight up, because otherwise I'll just keep assuming we want to be friends and we love each other.

6. Even if you ask me to go, I'll keep loving you. It's not defiance, it's just the way I'm built. I've never figured out how to turn that part off.

So there it is. I have no idea what it all means, and today I definitely don't care. But it's on my mind and now it's in my blog.