My wife was talking the other night about things that were bothering her, usually work, the various personal issues were facing with starting a family, jobs, money, that sort of thing. It’s the sort of things I think about often, but usually at the end of the night, lying in bed, and then I have to read bullshit on the internet to fall asleep. I always try to keep my mind occupied with things so I don’t send myself into a catatonic state from anxiety. One of the topics was friends, and the company we keep.

When we first got together, our friends were still mostly young twentysomethings in college. They still lived with their parents, lived on campus, or lived in apartments. My first apartment with my old high school friends was ten years ago, and it was largely a shitfest. I was the only one who would clean or keep the place looking decent, and I am amazed we got any sort of security deposit back on the place at the end of the year. I’m not a clean-freak, but I do not like dirty dishes and a disgusting kitchen for longer than a day. We had a small sink-size water heater that never held enough hot water so no one could take long showers, and there were five of us. I learned from that a lot of painful lessons about living in close quarters with your friends, and about how important knowing how to clean and cook was. My mother, presuming she reads this, is probably boosting her ego as we speak.

All but a few of those friends are gone, and besides my ex and I’s breakup, the other reason was I could not deal with their persistent high school-tier lives. Bad relationships, drugs, alcohol, unemployment, by my mid-twenties, I was done with the party-hard, the conventions, and the late nights at Denny’s. They were great times, and I do not regret them in the slightest, and I don’t even hold those old friends to any sort of longstanding grudge or personal vendetta anymore. It was what it was. We had to move on. I didn’t get these party-hard experiences in high school being an introverted mess from moving to the northeast, so I wasted most of my twenties, the years I should have been getting an education and getting a job. Had I made better choices, I’d have found a job like I have now back in 2003-2004 and probably been hauling ass today. I did not. I took the scenic route filled with tolls in a automatic VW Golf with missing side mirrors.

But my wife is different. She always had friends, from the day we met until now. She has a vibrant personality that people like. She resonates with people and can relate with them on a more personal level. I’ve always admired her ability to just strike up a conversation with someone randomly and make a connection. I am horrible at that. But she often gets ahead of herself, and places a lot of stock in people. When they let her down, especially when she feels she is putting a lot of effort into their friendship, she feels hurt, and gets mad about it often. It could be higher expectations, but having turned-and-burned a lot of people in MY lifetime, I’m always careful to remind her that some people are used to people like her putting a lot of effort into their lives and they do not feel the need to reciprocate those feelings. I also try to warn her not to get a sense of entitlement towards others that she feels they should always respond to her effort, because a lot of people don’t. Friendships are hard, because friendships are a lot like business relationships. They’re cozy and warm an provide incredible benefits for both parties while everything is great, but as soon as one sour transaction occurs, it can end the entire arrangement instantly, and it’s difficult to get back. I never fully understood it until I worked in office environments where sales success is predicated often on the strength of the relationship with the other party. Even in my job role, I have to try to make emotional connections with people to alleviate their fears and provide a feel of service they will come back to. It’s difficult, because I honestly don’t feel anything for most people that aren’t close family, some friends, and some co-workers. I might be broken in some way, but when it comes to people I tangentially know or complete strangers I talk to on the phone, I don’t care what kind of day they’re having or why they feel the need to call in another printer issue. I just want to fix their issue and get them off the phone. I know that sounds cruel, and I don’t want it to be, but that’s what I tried to convey to her when I said I am not the best person to discuss ethical friendships with. I have no emotional investment in people’s lives. Frankly, I see it as a benefit, because it keeps me from spending money I don’t have to play “keeping up with the joneses”. There will always be people out there with a better lot in life than me. I made mistakes. I own that. I’m working to do better.

What I then started talking about to her was something I was thinking a lot about when we were in New York earlier in the month. My parents both have places they go to with their significant others to hang out with friends or each other and socialize. Places like restaurants and bars, or just sitting around home. Growing up, we always had neighbors and people that we went to cook-outs and holiday functions with, where we played and had fun. I found that my thirtysomething crisis is that I want adult relationships. I want adult friends. I want to go out to places with people and bullshit, have people over for a drink, even if I don’t drink, and eventually when we have kids, let them play with other people’s kids. I don’t want the emotional baggage that comes from twentysomething friends and relationships, I don’t want to care about why people are so dysfunctional over-and-over. I didn’t realize this could be a feeling, and yet I have it. I think she does too. I think we both have it, because we’ve reached this point where we’re no longer interested in the type of shit we used to do when we first got together, we’re married, we have the house, we’re working on kids. I imagine this is not a revelation to other people, I can hear many voices telling me “Well ah-doye, you’re thirty-two, babby’s first adult realization?” Maybe, hell if I know.

TL;DR, I don’t want her to fall into my pit of no-feeling, no-remorse relationships with other people. I’m trying to climb out of it, and I’ve relied on her for a lot of that, because she is better about it that me. But there are days where I want nothing to do with people and just sit in the office all day A-TAKKA-TAKKA-TAKKA-TAKKA. It’s difficult, because I protest when people try to drag me out. She has patience, but I don’t want that patience to run out. I’m trying, and hopefully it will lead to something interesting.