“He’s Just Not That Into You”: So Real

I watched the movie “He’s Just Not That Into You” the other night on Pay-Per-View and I was just dying to call my best friend. We’ve been friends for over twenty years and have been through thick and thin with boyfriends, before getting married to somewhat normal guys. Just watching Jennifer Aniston’s character, Beth, tell her live-in of seven years that she wanted to get married was written for us. All the “guy” excuses came out. “But we have a great thing—why mess it up?” or “Single women go after married men.” Like that would happen. At least, not in our worlds. “You eventually grow apart and end up divorced anyway.” That’s my favorite line—like you wouldn’t get bored being with the same man for seven years, married or not. Marriage is about commitment and men, though not all of them, have a hard time committing.

This happened to my friend. He was separated at the time he was living with her, claiming he didn’t have the money to get divorced. Six months after she finally kicked his ass to the door, he was married to someone else. They deserve each other.

I once dated a man for about a year. He already had a girlfriend and he and I worked together. He once told me that he never wanted to get married because, what if the perfect woman comes along right after you say, “I do”? At least he was honest; the most honest guy I ever cheated with. He told me about his girlfriend and up front told me he didn’t want to get married and have kids. We could end the relationship whenever it stopped feeling right for either of us. And we did. I did. I wanted more commitment and he, of course, didn’t. We parted ways but are still friends nearly twenty years later. He’s still not married, nor has any kids, at least I don’t think so. And his girlfriend is sticking by him. They deserve each other.

The character I was most like in the movie was GiGi, who was desperate to get into a relationship, even hanging up on her mom when she dared call while GiGi was waiting patiently for “the guy” to call. She told her friends she wouldn’t call the latest bar pickup, but did. Always. I can remember staying home, just waiting for that phone call, hoping that this one would be the right guy. Checking to see if the phone was working. Rants the fact that caller ID was a crappy invention because now she couldn’t call the guy every fifteen minutes without him realizing she was a stalker.