It’s not often that one gets to live the life like those on television. However, when one finds themselves in that particular situation, it never seems to turn out like it does on TV. In fact, it always seems to turn, spectacularly, to shit.
Now, I am referring to the situation of “where friends become more than friends”. And we all know who the most inspirational TV friends-turned-lovers are. People, I am talking about none other than Dawson Leary and Joey Potter. Rachel Green and Ross Geller. And of course, Jim Halpert and Pam Beesley.
While I appreciate the sentiment that guy-girl friendships can sometimes become so much more, I have all but given up hope that anyone is going to crawl through my window and discuss the philosophies of life and question “what it’s all about”. This is partially because I am a cynic and partially because I live on the 22nd floor. Nor am I inclined to think that someone will utter ‘Rachel’ instead of ‘Emily’ at the altar. But when one is faced with having to decide whether or not they must broach the subject, things become gray, there is little sleep happening and there is a lot of getting red in the face at the prospect that your good friend may see you naked.
But what happens if you don’t take the plunge? Do we let life go on, not say a thing because we are afraid of (to quote that bizarre little kid on Love Actually) getting the shit kicked out of us by love? Do we retreat into ourselves and hole up with an endless supply of Rocky Road, tissues and Sex in The City DVDs?
Or, do we risk it all and lay ourselves flat out there, exposed?
Here is where I ask myself, “Can I carry on like Jim Helpert? Can I afford to run away to Australia…again? Can I live with myself if I never divulge what I have carried around for so long? Can I really carry on with this analogy knowing that something definitely happens between Jim and Pam and I can’t articulate it because I live in Asia and we are one season behind The Office?”
The answer, my friends, is no. I can’t.
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