To my dearest friends, if you are reading this, I am in severe need of your help. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know long I’ve been here. But I am trapped deep inside of the friend zone and am in dire need of a rescue.
I’m aware that all of you have warned me about this. Yes, you were right that drinking red wine and watching The Crown with her and her roommates was not a sign of romantic desire on her end. I’m ready to accept the fact that my own cowardice brought me to this point, if you guys are willing to accept the fact that I am in need of your help. The first step to overcoming anything is acceptance. The fact that I lack the looks and charisma to have my new friend invite me to spend the night in her bed is no exception.
I think it’s only fair that I apologize to you all. I’m officially taking responsibility for my lapse in judgement. When we hung out for the first time and she didn’t even acknowledge my attempts to impress her, and instead talked about her failed relationships, I should’ve listened to you. This was clearly a sign for me to leave at this point. But the presence of a human woman in the same room as a bed was enough for me to be blinded. I wasn’t thinking rationally. But with my thoughts no longer occupied by the delusional possibility of seeing my “friend” in her birthday suit, I have made the realization that it is time to leave.
I should be able to solve my own problems. But I have travelled too deep into these woods, and can no longer find my way out. I could hypothetically cut her off from my life. I could return to the same lonely, pot-filled routine that I had grown to love in my earlier years. The problem is, in my wavering, cowardly brain, I will never hold this opinion for long. She will mention one friend who I haven’t met yet that will suck my attention right back. I’m in the first moment of clarity that I have had in months. And I am asking you to pull me out of this sad, sad place called the friend zone.
To do this, I am giving you permission to do whatever you need to do. Whether this is through manipulation, physical punishment, or perhaps an exorcism, I am giving you official control over my social decision making. My lack of romantic success over the years has left me not particularly adept in this field.
So take this is as my white flag. You guys were right. Now come save me, because I can’t do this by myself.
Sincerely,
Derek (gets no) Beavers
