Q:
A few years ago, when I met the person who is now my best friend, I definitely had a big crush. It was awkward and frustrating at the time, but I think that has contributed to us becoming so close now – I struggle to pursue friendships generally, but because of my crush, I really had a drive to seek them out. Now, they’re one of the most important people in my life, and I like to think I’m just as important to them.
We’re really close – we have a lot of values and interests in common, we provide each other with a lot of support, and it just feels like we’re operating on the same wavelength. The infatuation and anxiety of the initial crush has faded now, but I still feel for them very deeply, and I’m starting to think I’m actually in love.
We’re not going to get together for a lot of reasons — I don’t really have time for a new partner, they’re monogamous and I am not, and they’re just not into me in the same way that I’m into them. I’m not really interested in pursuing anything, and I’m more than happy with the way our relationship is now. We’re open about boundaries around touch and affection, so I know if I do something to make them uncomfortable, they will let me know. Luckily, that hasn’t seemed to be an issue so far.
I don’t want to change anything about our friendship, and I don’t want to have to spend time apart from someone so important to me. Do I have to get over these feelings?
A:
Hey, lovely,
When I began reading your letter, I thought this was going to be a really painful trip. Instead, I’m filled with the gladness of seeing queer friendships in all their colors. Before I start yapping, I’ll give you the short answer: yes, it’s perfectly fine to stay in love with your friend as you are. That’s the shape your friendship has taken, and I don’t think it would be the same if you expunged those feelings.
The story of your friendship mirrors some that I’ve had. Just like you, I don’t socialize easily and infatuation is one of the only things that drives me out of the house to find someone. It has been the basis for some beautiful, lasting friendships and more than a few heartbreaks.
I used to chide myself whenever I developed a major crush on a friend before letting things proceed. It didn’t fit the normative scheme of friendships I’d grown up with. You know the one. It says that romantic love should be stripped from platonic love so it can flourish. I thought it was a personal failure to allow a crush to develop when the ‘goal’ wasn’t romantic. This was the same part of my twenties I spent berating myself for falling too hard, too fast for romantic partners — another issue entirely.
The lesson I took from this mirrors the queer activism I was surrounded by. Namely that my approach to friendship isn’t a shortcoming unless I mislead or harm others in the process. Part of being queer is coming to terms with our interpersonal intricacy. By rejecting standard issue cis-het scripts for life, we gain vast freedom of expression and the disorder it brings. That can be equally true in romance and friendship. We freely accept that all kinds of queer romantic love exist. I don’t see why we shouldn’t apply that openness and compassion to friendships as well.
Call me utilitarian to a fault, but what matters isn’t the shape of a friendship but whether it benefits those involved. I make that form versus function assessment every time I read an advice submission involving interpersonal issues. I went into yours with the same approach and saw nothing alarming. No obvious warning signs, no red flags or yellow streamers. When I received your words as they’re written, I saw a supportive friendship. Yes, you’ve got romantic feelings involved, but they’re tempered by an understanding that you won’t make a strong romantic fit. We’re not talking about an unrequited love story here. You described a stable friendship that’s aware of its limits.
Given the way this friendship has settled, I think the crush you have is part of it. It was founded with a crush at heart, and that thread has always run under the surface. In your experience, that’s its shape. Maybe they felt it differently, but no two people can experience the same event or relationship in the same way. That’s the wonder of human subjectivity. From the outside looking in, I don’t think you can cut away those romantic feelings without forever changing your connection.
If you wanted to, it’s possible to wind those feelings down a bit. Set them to sleep as a wistful thought of something that can’t happen and enjoy the goodness you’ve cultivated together. That’s doable, but ‘getting over them’ or pushing them out? That sounds like a lot of turmoil with no promise of personal gain.
So no, I don’t think you have to ‘get over’ the feelings you have for your best friend. Sure, you can dial them down gently. Partition them off to the fond memories of how this lovely friendship formed. But expunging deeply-held feelings tied up in someone else’s beauty? I’d only do that if I was sure it’s the ‘right’ or ‘good’ thing to do. There is no such thing as a correctly scripted friendship, so we shouldn’t feel burdened to hold ourselves to that script. What matters is that you have something reliable, stable and wonderful. It may look strange to an outsider, but those of us who’ve been in this position have seen its worth.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
Remember how Whitney Houston ended her and Robyn Crawford’s romantic relationship but they stayed besties for years? And Robyn was her assistant and closest confidant? Is queer culture is being in love with your friends?