STUCK IN THE FRIEND-ZONE??

 

STUCK IN THE FRIEND-ZONE??

A friend once told me that it will be a cold day in hell before he ever thought of wifing up tainted women. I will grant this friend an alias and call him Remmy, for the sake of this entire discourse. It has been a whole decade since Remmy commenced searching for his one pure love. Needless to say, Remmy still is as single as a pringle. To him, blemished women are bag ladies that come with a whole lot of baggage, and most especially those with; divorce tags, separation stamps, single-mother badges, and cougar trademarks. That is basically summing up eighty percent of female folk world-wide.

Anyway, my guess is as good as yours. The problem with Remmy is not that he is a prude or somewhat traditionally chauvinistic but he is more so an idealist who is borderline hard-core stupid. All that self-righteous nonsense he keeps posting all over social media has had him in singletude in like forever. The way I see it, Remmy desires a Stepford wife, one who is user-friendly and without glitches, one who comes with a high-tech remote control, a long-life battery, and has a twenty-year warranty. This type of a humanoid woman will suit him better than the one who comes in the flesh.

A few years back, Remmy had some sort of awakening that made him eager to take a leap of faith toward a blessed lady. However, he could not seem to shake the divorce tags off her. Moreover, he was worried that she would infect him with her amoral conduct of dumping long term relations like yesterday’s trash. Remmy further told me that his divine values played a huge role in discarding his romantic interest but I knew that the fear of being a future divorcee plagued him wildly. Come to think of it, why was I giving this nonentity all my airtime, to diplomatically insult women with his moral bull, when I should have been dismissing him like the grout he was?

Oh, yes. Come to think of it, this is why I befriend him. You see, Remmy was the only one in my life who stood by me, when that fool of a man broke the other remaining good piece of my heart, stole all my hard-earned money, got my former house help pregnant, and eloped with her into the sunset. I hope for both their sakes that the grass is greener on the other side of infidelity and betrayal. So, anyway, I owe Remmy a soft shoulder to cry on, anytime his love life hits a snag, a phenomenon which is most frequent in occurrence. So much for true friendship. Hence, I have no choice but to listen to his white-girl problems everytime he needs to let off some steam.

If you are wondering why our friendship has never turned fiery enough to spark a romance flame, it is because according to Remmy’s moral chart, I am already stained by the stigma of single-motherhood, thus there was no way he would accommodate or exempt me from his puritan rules, just because are were friends. Hence, I am forever boxed in his friend-zone.

Now, before you all decide to have a pity-party on my behalf, I will gladly let you all on a little secret. It is an actual fact that my friend Remmy lives in utopia, where he desires to be with an ideal partner, who only exists in Lala land. Actually, even God has not thought of creating that kind of a female specimen that my friend constantly idolizes. Infact, I would be bold enough and say that this perfect woman only exist in Remmy’s mind space. I would have quoted bible verses in his ear, had he the stamina to embrace the ugly truth.

Moreover, I do believe that Remmy is plagued by an existential vacuum, which causes him to pine for extra terrestrial women existing only in his fantasies. He still awaits for the beautiful and pure ones to be born, before he can pick a wife out from among them. I do not wish to burst his bubble, by letting him on the face that he will have transitioned into being an ancestor before that miracle ever happens.

Do not get me wrong, I took no offense to Remmy friend-zoning me, because why would I? Besides, we made a pact that we would be each others back-up plan and last resort, should that unconditional love failed to come knocking at my door or when he would finally give up on finding his perfect woman and call it a day. He would be the best roommate for me, when we both turned sixty five and still uncommitted.

See, we have already ironed out all the details of our retirement plan. For now, we shall remain forever twenty one. However, at the golden age of sixty five; Remmy and I will buy a two-bedroom bungalow, hire two night and day nurses, a cook, and a driver for our medical, as well as other divers appointments. Incase our plan fails to pan out, then I will have an added advantage over him, in the fact that I will be banking on my daughter to show mercy and care for me way into my old age, when my beauty fades and my body becomes frail.

Nonetheless, my faith in love is still strong and my prospects are still in plenty, even though I am no spring chicken. I also do hope and pray that Remmy finds the woman of his dreams. Until then, Remmy and I remain to be just friends.