MACs and PCs

“I don’t know what it is, I just can’t handle MACs,” I said, throwing my hands up in the air for emphasis.
“That’s because you’re so familiar with PCs. MACs are actually more user-friendly. They’re more intuitive,” OBF said, facing her screen as she clicked away.
“That’s what I’ve heard, but to me, they’re completely counter intuitive!”
“You just have to pretend you don’t know how to use a PC. Then it’ll be much easier for you to learn how to use a MAC.”

We were sitting in OBF‘s room, which hadn’t changed one bit from the last time I’d been in here, some time during high school. It was the epitome of a girl’s room, with a cream-coloured four-pillared bed and matching dresser, Lindsey Lohan magazine cutouts on the closet door, and the full collection of Babysitter’s Club on her bookshelf. I cringed.
This was one of the differences between OBF and I. While she grew up in all this girliness, I did not adopt any girlish fancies until I turned 18. That was the year I stopped boycotting lace, dresses, and the colour pink. Needless to say, I missed the age of Babysitter’s Club entirely.

OBF had called me out that morning at 7:30am, informing me that she had broken up with her boyfriend of three years. I should have been more alarmed – and I was sufficiently surprised considering two days ago she had been telling me about their wedding plans – but the truth is, I was sure they were going to get back together. Those two were made for each other. So I drove out to her part of The City and met her for brunch. She explained the premise of their break-up in between sobs and massive amounts of napkins while I chewed on a piece of a toast.

“It’s not just the breadwinner thing. I mean, I know that I’m going to make more money than him, and I’m fine with that. But on top of being the one who pays for everything, I’m also the one who plans everything and does everything, and he doesn’t even try to do more. I don’t want to be that woman. I want to have the option of staying home and taking care of the kids, and I want my husband to be someone who can provide for us if necessary.”
OBF and I have another difference: she actually wants to be a stay-at-home mom. If I stayed at home for more than two consecutive days, I’d go stir-crazy. I’d much rather be the breadwinner with a husband who has a more flexible work schedule to pack the kids’ lunches in the mornings and be able to pick up them up after school. OBF, on the other hand, does not want to be a “career woman.” She’s very traditional that way. But I don’t think she can help it – I mean, she’s the smartest girl I know, and I have no doubt she’ll graduate in the top 5% of her law class. Which means she’ll be offered a position at a nice big law firm downtown. Which means she’ll be on her way to making half a million a year by the time they decide to have kids. Whether she wants to be the breadwinner or not, she’s gonna be¹. It just can’t be helped.
If I were her – if I’d found a guy who was actually okay with the idea that his wife will earn more money than him, be more “successful” than him, and all-around more capable – I’d be thrilled. Because the reality is, being a truly capable woman is like a curse. Most men need to feel… needed. And this new generation of women – myself included – don’t make men feel needed anymore. I can pay my own bills, deal with my own finances (heck, I go to business school – banks and taxes are the last thing I’m afraid of); I can cook, clean, host parties; I can put up my own curtains, kill my own bugs, nail up my own paintings, and even fix my own plumbing system if needed (or call a plumber). There really is nothing that intimidates me enough for me to need a man to do it for me. That doesn’t mean I don’t wish for a man to take care of some of these things. But the truth is, in the day-to-day scheme of things, I don’t need a man. I just want one. And I am not alone in this sentiment.

But I digress.

After we exhausted the topic of OBF and her boyfriend, she asked me how MFL and I were doing.
“I don’t talk to him that much anymore. Well, right now he’s in the Philippines so I couldn’t even if I wanted to. But I don’t know that I want to anymore. I feel like being friends with him isn’t such a good idea. I mean, I certainly can’t blame him for my lack of boyfriend, or that I haven’t even been on a date in ages, but I do feel like our closeness hinders the development of any relationship. Because I know I’m the one pushing guys away, but it’s so much easier for me to not give guys a chance when I have him – our past – to compare to.”
OBF nodded. “I agree. Even though I think you guys will eventually be together, I think you need at least one serious relationship before you can do that. You need to fall in love with someone else.”
“That feels impossible right now,” I said with a sigh.

I realized that the only way I even have a chance of falling in love again is if I forget that I was ever in love. Like what OBF said about forgetting how to use a PC when learning how to use a MAC. I have to forget what it was like to love MFL before I can learn how to love anybody else. Because no two loves are the same and I cannot go around looking for love as if it is going to be identical to my first love. If I do, I’ll never fall in love again.

“I’m sure you’ll find it,” OBF reassured me.
“Well, if not love, then at least a summer fling…” I said, with a glint in my eye.

1. Especially considering her boyfriend is a complete bookworm and probably will end up doing his PhD in a completely unmarketable area like Physics, and then become a professor. Which is great, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that his career is likely not going to be as demanding as hers. [↩]