I'm dating my best friend. We met in Al-anon about seven years ago, and formed a solid friendship after a few years. He was also in recovery for sex and love addiction. I was married at the time, and there was no funny business, just a good program relationship. I was always baffled that a man could be so sensitive and in touch with his feelings, and I was always impressed with his reverance for God. As we got closer, I observed that something was possibly "off" with his relational skills, as he was dating a woman in her late thirties for four years and never seemed to get any closer to wanting to marry, even though they both said they wanted children and neither seemed overly dissatisfied with the relationship.
Fast forward from that time to about a year and a half ago. I finally made the decision to leave the abusive marraige I was in for ten years (we even had three very small children together.) My friend was very supportive as I made this hard decision, perhaps a bit TOO supportive, as we ended up having a brief but intense romance that ended very badly. (I blew him off for someone else.) The whole thing was a ridiculous mess that we had no business being in in the first place. I went on from there to a hellascious year in which I discovered that I am a love addict, and I bounced from one chaotic, toxic relationship to the next, completely disregarding myself, my children, and anything else I valued in the proccess. Yes, I meant it when I said ADDICT. Anyway, my friend and I somehow resumed our friendship during all this, although he was clearly very angry with me, still. Even in this last year when we were "just friends", I continued to lean on him, innappropriately at times, and he continued to be available, innaproptiately trying to control me at times. This is not to say that our friendship had no basis or validity beyond this sick parent-wayward child thing we had going on. As core individuals, we are both amazing, unique in the depth of our spirituality, intellect, insight, and morality. We connect strongly on these important levels, as well as in humor, etc... But the friendship had an undeniable toxic element, and early this summer, we parted ways, we thought for good, and it was not amicable. I didn’t cry or beg him to be my friend again, like I would have before. I told him I was sick of him being judgmental and controlling and he told me that he was sick of my flakey crap, and that was that.
We didn’t talk for a couple months. This was actually very good for me, because, aside from losing him (my best friend), I had also alienated basically every other support person in my life, and I was left with no one to lick my wounds but me. I made a small effort to medicate with the man I was seeing, but after so much hell from acting out, I knew by then that neither he nor any man would ever REALLY fix it for me. It was huge progress, but I wasn’t out of the woods. I still had the faulty belief that, at my core, I was unlovable as my authentic self. But it was a step in the right direction.
In august, he split with the woman he had been seeing. This woman, knowing that my friend and I were estranged, called me to bash him. I had seen through her as manipulative when he had first started dating her (takes one to know one), she was somewhat instrumental in my friend and I parting ways. She told me about some very mean things he had said about me, and I was super hurt, but I wasn’t biting. After it became clear to me that she was simply trying to revenge on my friend, I told her she was a jerk for calling me, and that even though my friend and I weren’t speaking, I cared for him very much, and that she should leave me alone.
My friend and I slowly started to talk again after that, partially because I confronted him on the horrible things that his ex had said he said about me. He actually confirmed that he had said them, but said that it was partially because he was so angry, partially because he was addicted to the idea of fixing me and was acting out, and partially because she was jealous of me and he wanted to appease her. I wasn’t crazy about it, but I accepted that. I certainly didn’t run his fan club when we weren’t talking, either. So, I forgave him, and we kind of resumed our friendship, but, this time, it was much less toxic. I didn’t feel that he was judging or criticizing me, and I didn’t feel intensely about getting his approval. I cared about him, but he was my human friend, not my perfect, inconsistently loving parent.
Then, last November, when I had just ended the last and most toxic of my love addiction relationships, we somehow ended coming toward each other again. I’m not sure how it happened. One day we were only friends, and, the next, we were kissing. I wasn’t too affected by it, it wasn’t too intense. But, then, one day, I woke up and thought, “Holy cow! This is my best friend! Why would I ever have chosen someone else!? He’s practically perfect!” (ok, ok, euphoric recall, I admit it.)
So, now it’s late march. And we’re together, kind of. Again. When things are good they’re great, and when they’re bad they’re awful. As soon as I start to feel secure about the relationship, he gets avoidant. Then I bomb him. Then he comes back and bombs me. I mean, classic stuff. You guys know the story. But, here’s the problem. While we’re in this addictive dance, which comprises maybe 30% of the relationship (The high highs and the low lows), I’ve figured out that I actually do love the guy very much! I’m addicted to my fantasy of him, for sure. But the core me, the soul that John Bradshaw writes about, is experiencing something very different from the addictive “relationships” I was in before. Like, this is actually real. Shudder. And I’m actually invested, not just obsessed. If we broke up, I would have to mourn, not just move on to the next, because there is no next, he is a unique human. Not meaning I could never find anyone else I would love as deeply, but meaning that would grieve the loss of him, not just the relationship. I could never say that before.
So, the last month was wonderful – the most peaceful time so far. Last week, he started even mentioning marriage a bit. Then, I know you guys will be shocked but, BAM! Brick wall. Unanswered texts and phone calls. Cold politeness. Estrangement. GRRRR!!!!!! I want to shake him, like, “It’s me, you fool! Aren’t we past all this?!!!” But that just doesn’t work and I know it. He will stop being avoidant when he stops being avoidant, and nothing I can do will change that. So, I despair a little. Now, again, we are at a precipice in which he is going to dictate whether or not we should “separate for six months while not dating anyone else with the intention of coming back together and going full steam ahead”. ??? This seems insane to me. Stay committed but break up??? Talk about confusing and irrational. He'll probably find a way to rationalize this latest "bomb" and assume that we'll just resume like every other time. But, this time, something feels different. This time, I'm not so willing, at least, the healthy part of me isn't even though my addict is terrified at the thought of losing him. I REALLY don’t want to leave him. But I feel like if I stay, I’m making myself a doormat. Input?