So to start off I'm a 23 year old Male. Been best friends with a girl we will call Chell for about 5 years now. We met at work and she thought I was funny and we got along great. She's unhappily married at 35 and I hear about it quite a bit. First 4 years were quite professional, I thought she was attractive but the thought never crossed my mind to act on it. We both left our job but kept going for lunch almost weekly for a long time. After a few months I fell hard into oneitis. I couldn't get her off my mind and the level of conversation and connection we shared was rough to shake. Having recently moved out from my parents house and being a fat dude I was pretty lonely. She was basically my only female interaction.
Her husband is ex military and is genuinely a nice dude, I never wanted to fall in love with his wife but it happened. Even so I drew a line in the sand not to do anything with her. After noticing how the lunches were affecting me I decided to back off a bit. If the lunch went well I felt awesome about myself for the day, if not it ate at me for the rest of day and ruined a lot of days for me. I knew this wasn't healthy and I started opting out of lunches and slowing down contact with her. After a few weeks she took notice and she asked what the problem was. I told her that I wanted this level of connection with someone I could be with, and that I was driving myself crazy comparing every woman to her. She thought it was weird that I brought it up, but also agreed a bit too.
Our lunches fell off for a while but picked up again later when loneliness made me weak. When we got lunch we talked a bit about how I was feeling and I basically just chalked it up to "I need to get laid" and I jokingly asked if she would write my tinder profile for me. She said that would be a conflict of interest and wouldnt elaborate when I asked what she meant. I was being played like a fiddle and i was too stupid to see it.
From that point I realized I was being used and that my problem was self inflicted. I cleaned up my eating, and eventually fell into a ketogenic diet, joined a gym and have made great strength gains. I learned how to lift and deal with the new diet all the while limiting contact more and more with Chell and battling this horrible feeling of being alone. One day I felt bad for avoiding her lunch invites and decided to go with her. She basically complained about her husband even though he seems to treat her well. I told her if shes unhappy she needs to leave him and get on with it, and that telling me wasn't going to fix her marriage. I had told her this nicely many times before, so to have the same conversation over and over and hear the excuses and how "I dont know what it feels like to be this stuck" I was visibly irritated by the end of lunch.
That night she said I shouldnt get so bent out of shape over it, and she just wanted to vent. She sent me a message that read "I can’t give too much thought to you not being happy, I’m not happy, it does nothing for my situation."
That was really the final blow, I knew I was just a friendzoned handbag accessory to her, one that she could put on when she went shopping and discard for a few weeks. I felt horrible about myself, I wanted to blow up on her. I wanted to tell her all the things I'd done for her and the emotional turmoil I endured for her. Instead, I left it on read. That was two months ago. I'm coming up on 100lbs lost, and I still catch myself wanting to check up with her. At the same time she hasn't messaged me since, and I know it wouldnt bring anything good.
Did I do the right thing? How can I stop this feeling that I need her approval? On one hand, I'm the lightest I've been since middle school and my confidence is through the roof, I'm 23 I should be having a good time and meeting people but I still find myself getting tripped up over this girl that clearly doesn't give a shit about me. What the hell is wrong with me? I feel pathetic.
[–]CainPrice5 points6 points7 points (0 children) | Copy Link
[–]CalvinRichland0 points1 point2 points (0 children) | Copy Link