What happens when friends start seeing other people on the side?
What happens when Friends for Life start seeing other people on the side?
A‘Squeeze them into a dinner party, go to the cinema if you must. Don’t do things together in swimming costumes – that is betrayal’
t this age you get used to the occasional shock. I’m not talking about the “why are my teeth growing?’ shock. Or the “how can Una Stubbs be 80?” shock. I refer to catching your friends, your old and most trusted friends, cheating on you: committing friend adultery with new, probably younger, presumably more attractive friends.
At the weekend we had B and J (very old friends) to supper. We don’t see each other much because we live hundreds of miles apart, but it’s understood that we are in the highest Grand Thetan order of friends, and that they would rather see us (plus some other very old friends) than anyone else.
Of course, they have other good friends, as we do. But the inner circle of trust is full up. Membership is closed. We’re not saying that newer friends aren’t really important, just that they’re not in the same league. We’ve never expressed this out loud, because you don’t need to – that is what everyone thinks.
Apart from B and J, it turns out, who have been seeing a new couple behind our backs. It’s been going on for a year, at least (they were pretty vague about when it started), and they’ve even been away with them on a couple of mini-breaks, including one to Berlin. Unbelievable.
So many questions rush into your head. Is that why they weren’t around on the bank holiday? Is it because we stopped making an effort? (We thought they liked going to Cornwall, year after year.) What have the new ones got that we haven’t? Why now?
“How could you?” we asked. “Who are these losers, anyway?”
“Actually, they’re really great,” they said (notice, not: “You’d like them. You must meet them.” They want to keep it to a neat double dating four.)
“But why do you need new friends?” we said. Because it’s not as if we haven’t had plenty of opportunities for a bit on the side (including a couple, one of whom is a reasonably well known actor). We could have been cultivating interesting new best friends, but we didn’t because we thought what we had, together, for better or worse, was enough.
“It’s good to make new friends,” they laughed.
“Haha. Not ones you go on holiday with, on your
own!” we said. “Squeeze them into a dinner party, by all means. Go to the cinema if you must. Don’t do things together in swimming costumes. That is betrayal.”
Which brought us to the matter of what distinguishes a Big Friendship for Life from a lesser friendship. In my opinion (they didn’t agree), a really good friend is one who you can go on a donothing holiday with, and watch TV with (as opposed to making amusing conversation). The other sort of friend you can do the show-off things with – dinners, festivals, and so on. But only really old friends can ignore each other and relax in each other’s company like family. And they are the only ones you want at a funeral.
This still doesn’t explain how B and J managed to make mini-break-calibre friends at this stage. Part of the reason why we’ve taken this so hard (the new couple are younger, by the way, and very “active”) is because – if truth be told – we have tried to enlist some new friends in recent years, with zero success.
There’s one particular couple we’ve known for a while, who seem ideal, but so far we haven’t managed to get past second base (dinner).
Having asked them on holiday (and been rejected), it’s not clear whether a) we like them more than they like us, b) they are genuinely busy, or c) they think it’s uncool and a bit creepy that we’re trying to turn them into better friends at this stage of our lives, when anyone normal should have more than enough good friends to be getting on with.
You don’t get any of that dating anxiety with old friends. Or, at least, you didn’t.