I recently went up to Vancouver on a mini-break and came back not only totally on Canada’s jock but also on that of a local boy. I told one of my guy friends about it, and he totally ragged on it and made me feel pathetic for crushing on and emailing some guy I met for two days.

Here’s the deal, though. This friend, “Bob,” and I have kind of a complicated past. I used to be totally in love with him, he wasn’t with me, I got over it, we became really close friends, BUT he likes to act kinda possessive. He can talk to me about his girlfriends and crushes and what have you, but if I so much as mention a guy, he jumps all over me and makes me feel pathetic and sad. What the hell is up with that? My other friend, “Yolanda,” thinks Bob has feeling for me but is too much of an ass to do anything, but that seems too…soap opera-ish. Oh, and after Bob made me feel like total crap, he was all “oh, and I have a girlfriend now.” WTF?? Can you make any sense out of this? I’m really wondering if my friendship with Bob (which really has its moments) is worth all the aggravation.

Nix

I don’t know where else to turn with this one — I’m hoping you can help.

My younger sister and I have never really been close. When we were teenagers, relations were openly hostile. Now, we’ve both moved out of the house and tensions have faded to the point where we’re civil, even friendly sometimes, but wary. I guess when you boil it down, we don’t even know each other very well, and we don’t trust each other to boot.

Recently, I’ve made a few attempts to be friendlier — initiated conversations, et cetera. I’m even planning a visit to see her, which she OK’d, but doesn’t seem particularly enthused about. And therein lies the root of my problem — I want us to try to like each other now that we’re both adults, and she just doesn’t seem that into it.

I have an inkling as to why, but this might not even be close to the real reason. When she was in junior high, she had a struggle with bulimia. About a year later (after she had kicked the bulimia, thank God) one of my high school teachers assigned a “serious informative speech” to the class. I gave mine on bulimia, and mentioned in the speech that my sister had struggled with it. It was a shitty thing to do, and I realize that now, but at the time I honestly had no malicious intent. I was fourteen years old and extremely thoughtless, but not evil.

I’m not sure my sister even knows about the speech to this day, although she did go to that same high school (a few years later). But if she does know, I could see where that’s a huge, egregious enough invasion of privacy that she would want no part of me afterward. Don’t get me wrong, she’s done some pretty evil things to me too — stealing, public humiliation, I could go on — but apparently never felt the need to apologize. Still, I feel tremendously bad about this one and think maybe I should say I’m sorry.

I’m just not sure whether it’s a good idea. If she didn’t know about my speech before, her finding out could do more harm than good. Or she may already know (or be pissed at me for some other youthful offense) and consequently decided that she doesn’t need or want me in her life, and if that’s her decision I want to respect it. Or she may not be mad at me at all, and it’s just her nature not to get all gooey over people — as I say, I really don’t know Adult Sis very well.

Tell what happened and apologize? Don’t tell at all? Split the difference kinda-sorta with a more generic “I’d like to get closer to you now that we’re grown-ups and I’m sorry for some of the stupid teenage shit I pulled” type of talk? I need an objective, discreet opinion.

Many thanks,
Sleeping Dogs

I’ve been tossing this problem around in my confused little head for a while now, and finally decided the advice of an objective, reasonable party such as yourself just might give me the final direction I need. I’m 25 years old and have been with my current boyfriend, “Mike,” for six years now. Before meeting him, I’d had a handful of random hook-ups and casual “flings,” but nothing serious. In fact, I was a late bloomer who didn’t even have a first kiss until I was a high school senior (not for lack of trying…I’ve always loved guys, but it wasn’t till I got to college that they really started reciprocating).

When I met Mike, it was pretty much love at first sight. He is witty, brilliant, kindhearted, ambitious, attractive, and an all-around decent guy. He is the only guy I’ve ever slept with, and he’s the only guy I’ve been with who has really treated me with respect and dignity. Our relationship was wonderful the first couple of years, and we moved in together when we were both 21. Right about that time, I experienced the resurrection of some chronic personal problems that included resurfaced regrets about the past (feeling like a freak, loser, outcast, reliving high school trauma, et cetera). To make a long story short, I became very distant from Mike in the midst of all of this, and he responded first with desperate alarm, then with hurt sarcasm, then with resigned aloofness. While we stayed together, the relationship really suffered. No one cheated, but we grew very much apart. In spite of my mood swings and resulting shitty-girlfriendness, though, Mike did stay by my side; even as we’ve become almost strangers in some ways, no matter how awful I’ve been, he has always been there to pick up the pieces and try to help me get back on my feet.

Now, I am in the process of trying to get my head on straight, move forward, and be the mature, adjusted “adult” I keep swearing I’m going to be. Mike and I have our own place together and have had many discussions about healing our relationship and planning for the future (marriage, house, et cetera). Here’s my dilemma: as much as I know in my heart that, flaws and all, he’s still just about the best guy a girl could want, I can’t help but be constantly attracted to other guys. I still love Mike, but the excitement/intrigue/lust has worn off, and I find myself crushing and daydreaming about being with other men. I haven’t acted on it, and half the time I realize I’m being an idiot, but the feelings constantly resurface nonetheless. I think a lot of this stems from my old issues about being a late bloomer, wanting to have what I missed out on as a teenager…basically wanting to go back in time and sow my wild oats before meeting Mike. Unfortunately, I obviously can’t do this. He has picked up on my signals and has told me more than once that if I feel I’m being stifled, I should go do what makes me happy…but I know that if I do that, I can’t expect him to wait for me, and knowing myself, odds are good I’d quickly regret my newfound “freedom.” The sad thing is that he was similarly inexperienced when we met, but has never had these pangs; he’s told me quite honestly that, if anything, he wishes he’d never been with anyone before me. I feel awful admitting I can’t say the same.

I know deep down that I don’t want to lose him; others have told me — and I’ve repeatedly told myself — that I’d be a fool to risk something genuine and good for the hedonism and high drama of a postponed adolescence. But if I know in my head that I should stay with (and appreciate) what I’ve got…then why do I keep suffering from grass-is-greener syndrome, and pining all the while for what I didn’t — and don’t — have?

Any words of wisdom would be most appreciated.

Sign me,
Girl Interrupted