The Offline Dater: Help – My best friend’s got a boyfriend

I’ve already met my life partner. The person that makes me laugh when I’m being a grump, knows what I’m thinking before I do and has my back no matter what happens.  We do everything together – including writing a ridiculous blog about dating.

There was a time when R and I had resigned ourselves to the inevitability of our marriage – it was only a matter of years before the pressures of ‘adulthood’ (you know, mortgages marriages and madness) forced our hand and we ended up cocooned in a cozy granny flat surrounded by cats and the stench of our own bitter longing.

It’s not that we’ve ever been anti-men (despite R masquerading as such) but time and time again, as relationships ended, I’ve called her in floods of tears and she’s picked up the pieces. Reminding me that romantic relationships will come and go but she’ll be on hand with her support, cynicism and tough love (which to be honest is the only way to handle me when I’m on a post-love come down).

But finally (and trust me when I say that it’s long over due) the tables have turned: my best friend has a boyfriend.

Initially, I was hugely over-enthusiastic. Texts of encouragement, followed by hysterical giggles when she mentioned his name and an unhealthy interest in every detail of their dates. Admittedly, the pressure of my excitement was probably a bit much but I was literally overjoyed. I had planned the wedding, picked out my bridesmaids dress and had written her off with her very own Hollywood happy ending (which obviously involved him becoming one of my best mates – the newest addition to our every growing gang of oddballs).

Then it dawned on me, he’s not our boyfriend – he’s R’s.

Over the last few weeks I’ve spent some time with Primetime and I really like him. Aside from the fact that he’s clearly crazy about R, he seems like a genuinely decent bloke (despite the disconcerting penchant for reflective aviators – I mean, I don’t want to talk to myself when I’m looking at you – it’s just odd). As such, I’ve been super keen to get him along  to social events and make him feel welcome and part of the gang.

I now realise that this is a huge faux pas.

The thing is, I’m hugely protective over R. Not akin to a serial stalker story line (“I can’t have her so no one can mwhahahah”) but in a sort of maternal fashion. So whilst I’m trying to make him feel at ease and comfortable I’m controlling the urge  to shoot him a look that says ‘break her heart and I’ll break your legs’ (To be honest – I just end up smiling gormlessly – somewhere between ‘I come in peace’ and ‘oh don’t mind me, I’m verging on a break with reality’)

Either way, the point is, this is one thing that I can’t and shouldn’t share in. Hopefully, one day, Primetime will become part of the furniture – a plus one that’s no longer a plus one but until then I’m trying to take a step back, rein in the enthusiasm and let R and Primetime do their own thing.

Lx

P.s got to shoot – the cats are calling