The Grass, It Is Greener

Today I had lunch with somebody I’ve known a very long time that I’ve decided to call My Happily Married Friend. I don’t have many married friends. Three, to be exact. And I’m pretty sure that’s a testament to the fact that lately I’ve surrounded myself with people too busy having a good time to settle down.

My Happily Married Friend is the same age as me; I’ve known her since elementary school but we lost touch in college (thank you, MySpace.) So while she was there for some of my more promiscuous high school days, she wasn’t able to witness my wild sorority girl years. If I were her, I’d be thankful. I was a lot to handle (and defend) during that time. It’s amazing RK has lasted as long as she has, although I think that I’ve always made her feel better about her own life choices could have something to do with that.

MHMF and I had lunch at a restaurant called The Buffalo, which is near where we grew up, since whenever I see her I insist upon fabricating such nostalgia. For some reason, sitting down with an old friend in a place I haven’t seen in years allows me to mentally regress back to a simpler, less self-aware time in my life. Of course, that didn’t last long because before our appetizers were even served we were already discussing The Celibacy Project. She's a fan, so I let her in on some behind-the-scenes scoop.

After I’d given her the rundown on who everybody really is and what happens when I’m not blogging, I asked her about married life. She smiled and told me it was good. I believe her – I think she found a really special guy. But I also believed her when she followed that up by telling me that it could get a little boring.

Please note: she did not say she was bored, but rather that married life had the propensity to be not-so-exciting. I mean, duh. Sure it’s a lot more entertaining to live a life like mine. I’ve met a sitcom star while the stand-up comedian I was dating did a set at Caroline’s Comedy Club in New York City. I’ve been taken out by a first-round draft pick NFL player who wore, I swear to God, Air Force Ones with gold-tipped laces. Were these dates the farthest things from boring? You bet your sweet ass they were. But now she’s got a husband that loves her, a home in the suburbs and an adorable puppy…and I’ve got a blog about overcoming my inner whore. And, to be honest, "exciting" is that last word I would use to describe what it feels like to wait on the results of an STD test (which reminds me, THANK YOU GOD.) So I think it’s safe to say, the grass really is greener on the other side. And you always want what you can’t have.

In her case, that’s a tear of wild nights without the certainty of someone waiting at home for you. In my case, that’s the knowledge that the man I’m in love with doesn’t want to be with anyone else and wants me to himself. But you know what? She needs someone like me to appreciate what she has and I need someone like her to appreciate what I want. And while we might have chosen different paths, it’s amazing that those roads can still occasionaly intersect and then they divide the terrain together. To be honest, I probably wouldn’t go back and do things differently even if I could (no regrets, remember?) but that doesn’t mean I can’t understand where I’d be right now if I had. It gives me something to look forward to. And thanks to this slutty little blog, I’m actually a lot happier with who I am now then I’ve been in a really long time. So while I value what My Happily Married Friend has, and I love to keep in touch with her to hear about it, suprisingly enough, I also wouldn't trade it for what I've got.

I guess the grass can only be “greener” if you compare it to something else. On it’s own, it can still be pretty green.