Blurred Lines

Recently I had started talking to someone who I came across in a less than usual way - Lets call him Wilbur (a reference I find apt due to the spidery nature his life and the link to Charlottes Webb).  Anyway, Wilbur is one of the most charasmatic and intelligent people I have met in a while.  Interesting to talk to, witty, and all in all what I perceive to be a pretty genuine person; the kind of person everyone needs in their lives right?  

In the last week or so Wilbur and I have exchanged many a conversation and each a pleasure, although unfortunately due to some of the topics, also a sticking point.  You see Wilbur is someone living in a complex set of circumstances; circumstances that make a friendship with him, however platonic... difficult.  The kind of friendship that would see two people shooting the proverbial and trying to point out potential future paths for each other, separate, but equally opening the door to an exchange that on his part would have to remain a secret.  A  friendship that  could never be spoken of. A friendship that by its very nature, would blurr the line; and there in lies the rub.

Last night after speaking with Wilbur via text, I left the conversation feeling amused (I had given him a bit of a hard time in terms of telling him he needed to change the approach to his current situation, and surprisingly, despite my bluntness, he just... well agreed?!?) I equally left feeling somewhat (and for want of a better word), unclean. 

You see, as you know I am a very black and white person when it comes to certain aspects of my life... crossing boundaries with someone who has a significant other in their life being one of them.  A clear and measured approach.  I have zero interest in being 'the other woman', but this situation... it isn't about 'being the other woman', it just comes with some of the same restraints.  I guess it is difficult to define as clearly, but a secret friend vs a secret girfriend... are they really that different?

Don't get me wrong bloggers, a tone was set from the start, the rules accepted, and the exchange... innocent.  Nothing in this world would, or could ever make me cross that line.  I think the Beeze situation pretty much proved that point; but still, being a secret friend... the concept is one that chews away at my brain.

Before I went to bed last night I opened my email, tapped the keys letting my thoughts pour out, crudely explaining my reservations, and to a large extent, I pretty much closed the door. 'Thanks for the conversation, but I've calibrated the scales and my halo was found somewhat wanting.'  I mean, a friendship, however platonic surely can't sit on the right side of a clear conscience if it is a secret right?

Why is it then, that rather than feeling exonerated from any wrong doing, I feel somewhat like... well, an ass.  Did I just close the door to someone who really just needed a friend, and in an unlikely twist of the universe found me, someone he felt he could relate to, someone disconnected and therefore someone open to being brutally honest at a time when things are at their most challenging?  Equally, did I close the door to someone also holding out their helping hand in my direction.

Could it be that I have perhaps stumbled upon a scale that won't balance, regardless of which side of the fence I choose to sit?  Did I do the wrong thing? 

Robin Thicke Ft. Pharrell - Blurred Lines
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