“I feel like a tertiary figure in her life is all”
J—— is sitting across from me again but this time we are in Spain.
“What?”
I’m distracted as he speaks, I’ve been reading about Barbra McClintock’s corn study on Wikipedia and haven’t been paying attention. No one thought she was smart enough to come up with the concepts she did so she co-authored the paper with her dog. Sexism is a hell of a drug.
“I don’t feel central to her like, fucking life man”
“Don’t be insecure.” I tell him, sharply, not as softly as I should of. I’ve been picking at the dirty beach paella between us for 20 mins and it hasn’t gotten better. J—— picks up a fork.
“You’re right, being insecure isn’t hot”
I gave up on feeling security a long time ago. You can’t get it from anything. You can’t get it from anyone. Maybe I’m defensive of J—— lovers position because I’ve made people tertiary in my life. Maybe it’s the distracted dating of the modern era that’s made me tougher. I don’t know, I just know I need him to stop being such a little bitch or he isn’t going to make it.
“It’s not just that being insecure isn’t hot J——, it’s that, it’s sort of like, abusive man”
I don’t know what I’m saying. I am just trying to feel something and at the moment the feeling I’m after is the sacrosanct self righteousness of a man speaking without actually knowing what the fuck he is talking about. Masculinity is a hell of a drug.
“It’s like, sort of making your shit her problem. Like it’s selfish to be insecure, it’s sort of like a passive aggressive violent act man”
J—— puts down his fork. I wouldn’t say he was stunned but he has gone quiet. This reminds me I’m speaking to someone who takes my opinion seriously and I should think about what the fuck I’m saying.
“You think?” J’s eyes are basically watering “I’d hate to be bumming her out”
Fuck you, you big softy.
She doesn’t deserve you. And I definitely don’t deserve you. You are sweet and big hearted and dumb and beautiful and I want nothing harmful to ever befall you. The little boy inside me wishes I could be this pure. Alas. The rum and the lash. And all the million other things. Like a river ran through. Eroding the rocks into canyons. Leading with your heart is a luxury of the stupid or the enlightened.
“Sorry. Maybe you aren’t like, being abusive man, but you being insecure isn’t gonna make her love you more.”
Because that is true. Society says people being vulnerable is revolting. Society says being open about what makes you feel less than makes us sick. Insecurity isn’t hot. And yet. I don’t want him to ever lose that. His insecurity means he is all the way fucking in. And what a rare and lovely thing that is.
“But like, just let her know you don’t want to be tertiary, like she might have a roster, but you want to be the top of that roster.
J pauses again. Deeper and longer then the first time.
“What do you mean by roster?”
Fuck.
insecurity and vulnerability are almost brothers. we can't expect to be the centre of someone's universe, but we do anyways. you're there-- don't tell him not to feel that way. remind him who he is. remind him of how you see him, remind him of himself outside of her. that is all our friends need from us.
Insecurity is hot. It means you are human.