On dreadful parties

Recently I was at a party with a friend. Most of the people were strangers, in and of itself not a bad thing.

The party was a bit of a train wreck.

There were good things, don't get me wrong. The house was lovely and the reason for the get-together was wonderful. After lots of hard work, a friend is going to become a teacher. She looked great that night, and really happy. So we got together with great food and plenty of beer and enjoyed her generous hospitality.

That was the good part.

And at first blush, the fact that so many were single was also good news. As the beer flowed however, it became obvious that I was surrounded by walking wounded.

Divorced singles outnumbered those who'd never been married almost two to one. And before you comment, this is not a rant about divorcees. I have a number of divorced friends, so let me compare. My friend Stacy wants to recover from her divorce, not just to move on to another prospective relationship, but sincere recovery. She has confidence that she can and will, and that she deserves to find a partner.

Therefore, I think she really has recovered. While she may be lonely at times, she has patience that a person who also wants to be her partner will enter her life. She's even willing to put some effort into that person when they show interest in her. She projects confidence. It is something you can't fake, at least not for long.

But there is the fake confidence. It is a brash kind of loud, tough confidence that sounds intimidating and a little sexy when people are sober. The mask then begins to slip when people are drunk.

As the party wore on, the false confidence began to slip away on these who were in the walking wounded category. What began to show was their deep loneliness. They were people who have settled. By settling, I mean they've not found someone they can share intimacy and partnership with, so they've decided that sex purely for physical closeness is enough. "Just sex" has an allure to it, but watching these people, I realize they aren't happy with the consequences.

What are the consequences? Well, from my perspective, they've put a price on their happiness, and it's been set lower than it should be. They've advertised the price to the public in hopes of getting a buyer. Well, maybe a renter.

Because of that, hooking up doesn't end up feeling all that glamorous. Well okay, it just doesn't look all that glamorous to me. It doesn't even seem to bring much pleasure.

I spent an evening with those people. I felt smothered by their sadness.

But that wasn't all. There were also the ones who didn't even pretend to be confident. In fact, they carried their loneliness around like a badge. One man was in the MIDDLE of a divorce. Right in the middle. All he could talk about was the Soon-to-be-ex-wife (STBX). He had two children, but he seemed much more concerned this evening with how miserable he was.

Strangely, he felt he could solve this by developing, in short order, a "relationship" with a woman. "Friends with Benefits." He polled the assembled womanhood in the room. How does that even work these days? Do you think I'm ready for such a relationship? I haven't gotten sex in so long.

I thought you said you'd slept with your STBX two weeks ago, I offered. He grimaced, but ignored me. What is your opinion on Friends with Benefits, he asked me.

No sex is free, I answered.

This was roundly rejected by the others. If there's an agreement between consenting adults, they reasoned, what is the problem?

It doesn't come without a price, I say.

How many times do you lie to yourself that sex is all you need? And then, when you know you want more, what do you say to convince yourself that you like the person enough to make a relationship out of what began as just sex?

I didn't win anyone over to the idea of befriending someone prior to sleeping with them. Several were too busy looking like heat-seeking missiles for sex and comfort.

So what had I been looking for? I had gone there thinking I was looking for the same. I realized I wasn't. I was looking for a friend. Hopefully someone who'd become my best friend. I rode home that night with Stacy, who unfortunately isn't a boy.

That party was depressing, I said out loud. She agreed with me. I found myself wondering how many of those people had best friends somewhere who were lonely because those people had settled for less. For comfort that was temporary, and happiness what wasn't all that happy.

I felt bad for us all.

--Laura Burke