Dear friends of my boyfriend,
How are you? I know we don’t see each other often enough. I know how hard it is to make and keep plans when we’re all so busy.
In fact, I think I might be struggling to catch up with you all in the future too. But not because this is a schedule-related issue… it’s something worse.
The truth is, I hate hanging out with you guys.
Don’t get me wrong, as people I like you all a lot. Very, very much. You’re funny, interesting and intelligent individuals, but I’ve got some serious problems with you guys as a group. You all share a pretty big flaw, and it makes any social event an awkward cringe-fest for me.
As much as I like you all, and I really do, I feel you guys are lacking in some social skills.
As anyone who has ever dated somebody with a large social group can tell you, meeting the friends is a toughie. The dream is that they will eventually become your friends too, but all too often the reality is far from it.
In the two years I’ve known you all, I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve had a conversation – a proper conversation – and it is not for lack of trying.
You always make an effort to invite me to dinner, or when we catch up for lunch. I’ve been at drinks, birthdays and gigs with you all, but there is just one thing you do that makes it so hard for me to be included. And making someone feel included is more than just asking them to tag along.
All you guys talk about is your shared past. Y’know, stuff I specifically wasn’t there for.
Yes, I know it’s funny to rehash the past, and laugh about the hijinks you got up to in high school. I laughed my head off the first time you talked about it, and the second, but on the 23rd retelling, these stories have not only lost their charm, but are starting to feel like a way to block me out of the conversation.
I can’t share your outrage that whatshisname and whatsherface are dating now, or how funny it was that time that something happened to you guys and it was seriously SO FUNNY.
I genuinely would not know, because obviously, I WASN’T THERE.
Listen: There’s a new kind of boyfriend on the block. And he is cashed. up. (Post continues after audio…)
On the odd occasion I have managed to wrangle the conversation away from your shared past, the conversation has fizzled quicker than a firework in a frog pond.
I mean I’m trying here, but there is only so many awkward silences a woman can take.