"Maybe Thats What My Pull Towards You Is, My Relief From The 'Quest'"

Few ex-boyfriends appreciate the primacy of laziness on the decision whether or not to sleep with them again. "Emily" and "Brian" were two old flames in the laziest stretch of most educated Americans' post-infant lives: Christmas break home from college.

Now of course they were "just friends." But they were seniors, meaning anyone moderately wealthy was on some fancy trip somewhere, and so if we had been Emily, in our final year at one of those schools where no one is not moderately wealthy, marooned in our hellishly "festive" hometowns with no one but Brian and our pent-up rage directed people with legacies of controlling cartels and excelling at winter sports, the fact that Brian had been "selfish and immature" in high school would in no way serve as any sort of deterrent to us fucking him. Nor would the fact that he was sleeping with two other girls at the time... because we have no standards.

Anyway, in other words, if we had been Emily, we would have just slept with Brian the night after the last exam, no longing glances or uncertainty-stoking makeouts necessary, and we would have never received this fantastic specimen of What Happens When Your Moderately Ridiculous High School Boyfriend Spends Three And A Half Years At A Liberal Arts College Only To Have You Refuse Him On Winter Fucking Break.

Dearest E,

First, let me apologize for this letter. Its melodramatic sentiments are perhaps unfounded given the nature of our relationship, but perhaps not. I would try to talk to you in person, but I am afraid i can never find the right words.

I have always wished to be a more patient person. Patience, like many other things in my life, comes and goes from me as she pleases. When she does decide to visit me, she is usually accompanied by her less noble companion: indifference. To not care about something, means you can be eternally patient with it. Unfortunately (for me at least) the human condition is such that "caring" about things inescapable. It's times like these I wish i was a monk.

I had a hard time falling asleep last night. You and many other thoughts of things that make me anxious would not leave my mind. That is why I am writing this even though I don't think its the best idea.

I, like you are, am unsure of what the connection we have is and where it comes from. Since it has been on my mind, I have been considering the possibilities of this connection. This is something which I am hesitant to speak of because since we both are in the dark on what it is, it could be that it is different for each of us... but whatever.

It could be that after being single for a while (though it really hasn't been that long, it just feels like it) I am starting to wish for the comfort that comes with having a girlfriend. Perhaps you have considered this idea as you split with Ryan around the same time as I did with Michelle... But if this were true, then our connection would be false, so I don't think thats it.

You know all to well that lately, I have been in the company of many different girls. There is a theory about men who seek out many women. It says that these men fit neatly into two different groups: those who seek out many women in the hope of finding one woman in all of them, and those that seek the knowledge that comes with being so close with so many. I don't really know where i stand, probably because I am too young and haven't really been with that many women. Lets say I am somewhere in the middle.

This may seem like a digression, but here is my point: You are different. I do not consider you a part of my quest for either knowledge or the woman in all women. When I am alone with you, all other girls disappear from my mind. I can't tell you what a relief that is for me. Maybe thats what my pull towards you is, my relief from the "quest".

But still, I am not sure that it is entirely it.

There was a time that we were in love. Does something as deep and complex as love ever really disappear completely? What is love?...Don't get freaked out, this isn't a declaration of love for you. Though i am sure that i love you in some way or another... I suppose that like all human emotions, love has different levels. Which one we are on (if any) and what that means i do not know. But I do know that I would like to be on it with you for the little time that we have to be with each other.

And so I have told you what I want. That wasn't so bad.

...

I have a feeling that you like Jeff way more then you let on. You complain all the time about how he doesn't pay attention to you, and that means one thing: that you seek his attention.

I feel that you are keeping me on the metaphorical leash, intentionally or otherwise. Why else would you look at me the way you do?

You know that I could care less about you and other guys. Be with as many as you like as long as you kiss me like you did the other night! For me, being with different girls reaffirms the possibilities of life. Everyone is different after all... But I think this idea is something of an impossibility for you. You're quest is unknown to me, but I can't imagine that it involves being with many different men. (BTW I believe that being with one person is also reaffirming in a different way. You are good to think the way you do, it makes you shine.)

And so it is time for you to decide what you want... for once. (ha!)

To clarify: I cherish your friendship. I think you are an incredible girl, unlike any I've ever met. No matter what happens i will still love you as a friend, but i think it is about time we cut out the games and be honest with one another. If you think it better to be friends, then stop being so provocative around me. I am losing sleep after all.

I can only hope that you realize that I am, unquestionably, the best choice.

Let me know what you think. And again, I am sorry about the serious tone of this letter. I take comfort in knowing that you know I am not so serious a person.

Submissions? Email crap@jezebel.com, and please visit Crap The Blog for our forthcoming reviews of three new works of chick lit that revolve around how the internet has totally laid waste to this whole stupid "love" concept.