friends - who needs 'em?
This post is inspired by the last episode of Friends, which just finished, so I guess I have to throw a spoiler warning of sorts here...as it's gotten me thinking.
I've been watching the show for the last seven years or so (not watching the first three because I had a bug up my butt and the show was too "immoral" or something) and I've always considered myself the Chandler type. You know, the bumbling goof-off that annoying, but in a charming sort of way I guess. But I realized tonight that I am so much like Ross. And it gives me some hope.
Ross has always been the loveable geek, the totally unsuave know-it-all who is lousy at flirting and horribly fantastic at screwing everything up in his relationships with other people (and not just romantic) whenever the opportunity presents itself. Heck, he's even the type that can stumble his way into creating the opportunity to screw things up. He's the type of guy that it takes years to get to know beyond the surface which may very well be an alright sort of guy, but it's what's deep down beneath the bumbling and akwardness that what makes him someone a person can really love. It's something that's not exactly an admirable trait and certainly not something that lends itself to a high self-esteem or bliss of any sort...but it's something I relate to.
I'm a good guy. I'm a nice guy. That, I think, most anyone can see and accept upon meeting me. I'm always the guy that can meet someone and become fast acquaintences with. But that's it...acquaintence. When people ask if they know Kyle, I'm sure they probably clarify by saying something along the lines of "you know, that really tall, really nice guy." Everyone knows who I am once that's said. That's fine, I don't mind that, but what does bother me is that that's where most people stop in getting to know me. They decide that I'm nice and that's it...maybe tolerating my sometimes maladroit social style but little more. That's where I think my emptiness comes from.
People don't dig down. They don't really take the time to see what's down there. They see me acting in this way or that, not bothering to wonder why I do what I do; rather, deciding that it's part of being a nice guy.
Well, I guess in some ways it is...but at the same time it's sort of pigeonholing of me into some two-dimensional character. I have depth, but people don't want to see it, because it takes some time to go there. Perhaps it's because our society conditions us to be two-demensional and thereby forces us to look at each other as little more than comic book characters on any certain page of life...but I digress. The fact is, there's a lot of me beneath my skin, and most of the good stuff is down there too.
Which brings me back to Ross. Over ten years of Friend's episode Ross had one love and that didn't solidify until tonight. It took the threat of irreversible change to force him to confront that love, but he did...and it took Rachel that long to be ready to accept that; to forgive his social akwardness, set it aside, and accept him for what he is...someone truly capable of love and honest and true about it.
See, that's me. But I cannot find anyone that's willing to work with me on that, willing to put up with my sometimes-immaturity, sometimes overly-hopeless romanticism long enough to see that behind that isn't just some simpleton "nice guy" so easily labeled, but a genuinely interesting, passionate, and otherwise loving person. I don't have a Rachel. Not that one can go out looking for such a girl, but not that I should have the luck of meeting a girl willing to take that time...or maybe it's me that doesn't have the patience to wait.
After all, it took Ross ten years.
I've been watching the show for the last seven years or so (not watching the first three because I had a bug up my butt and the show was too "immoral" or something) and I've always considered myself the Chandler type. You know, the bumbling goof-off that annoying, but in a charming sort of way I guess. But I realized tonight that I am so much like Ross. And it gives me some hope.
Ross has always been the loveable geek, the totally unsuave know-it-all who is lousy at flirting and horribly fantastic at screwing everything up in his relationships with other people (and not just romantic) whenever the opportunity presents itself. Heck, he's even the type that can stumble his way into creating the opportunity to screw things up. He's the type of guy that it takes years to get to know beyond the surface which may very well be an alright sort of guy, but it's what's deep down beneath the bumbling and akwardness that what makes him someone a person can really love. It's something that's not exactly an admirable trait and certainly not something that lends itself to a high self-esteem or bliss of any sort...but it's something I relate to.
I'm a good guy. I'm a nice guy. That, I think, most anyone can see and accept upon meeting me. I'm always the guy that can meet someone and become fast acquaintences with. But that's it...acquaintence. When people ask if they know Kyle, I'm sure they probably clarify by saying something along the lines of "you know, that really tall, really nice guy." Everyone knows who I am once that's said. That's fine, I don't mind that, but what does bother me is that that's where most people stop in getting to know me. They decide that I'm nice and that's it...maybe tolerating my sometimes maladroit social style but little more. That's where I think my emptiness comes from.
People don't dig down. They don't really take the time to see what's down there. They see me acting in this way or that, not bothering to wonder why I do what I do; rather, deciding that it's part of being a nice guy.
Well, I guess in some ways it is...but at the same time it's sort of pigeonholing of me into some two-dimensional character. I have depth, but people don't want to see it, because it takes some time to go there. Perhaps it's because our society conditions us to be two-demensional and thereby forces us to look at each other as little more than comic book characters on any certain page of life...but I digress. The fact is, there's a lot of me beneath my skin, and most of the good stuff is down there too.
Which brings me back to Ross. Over ten years of Friend's episode Ross had one love and that didn't solidify until tonight. It took the threat of irreversible change to force him to confront that love, but he did...and it took Rachel that long to be ready to accept that; to forgive his social akwardness, set it aside, and accept him for what he is...someone truly capable of love and honest and true about it.
See, that's me. But I cannot find anyone that's willing to work with me on that, willing to put up with my sometimes-immaturity, sometimes overly-hopeless romanticism long enough to see that behind that isn't just some simpleton "nice guy" so easily labeled, but a genuinely interesting, passionate, and otherwise loving person. I don't have a Rachel. Not that one can go out looking for such a girl, but not that I should have the luck of meeting a girl willing to take that time...or maybe it's me that doesn't have the patience to wait.
After all, it took Ross ten years.
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