Coming out

The problem with nights that you know will turn into late drunken nights, but that you don't want to have, is that they tend to turn into late, mellow, contemplative nights instead. Which are nice, but still of little use if you're ill and have to be up early.

Since finishing finals I've had at least 5 "nights out" - 6 if you count last night. So my fluey disgusting bug is no better than before.

On Friday I was out with my coursemates - well that was the theory anyway. Actually it turned into dinner with 1 of my coursemates who's a good friend (Doc), 2 of my coursemates who I barely know and then general mellowness following with a few more of the previously absent coursemates who had numerously fallen asleep, had late trains, been invited elsewhere etc and the first coursemates flatmates.

One of my friends (Worrier) is seriously underdeveloped emotionally (and bear in mind this is 1. coming from me of all people and 2. coming from somebody that knows as many messed up people as I do). You know the stereotype: girls school, never met any boys, doesn't know how to flirt or how to kiss or that women can enjoy sex (none of these obviously are major emotional lacks, but they're all linked together). She's always been a worrier. She's always had low self esteem. But it's never been so apparent as that night quite the extent that this is to.

A lot of her complete lack of self worth (and I do mean complete - it's bizarre once you realise it) seems to stem from not only having never had a boyfriend, but having never had the feeling of wanting one. She's convinced that anybody who wants her must be not worth having, but she's also apparently never had a crush; never really wanted somebody to want her back. She's fancied people in films but that's as far as it goes.

She's also excessively tactile (again, this comes from me, so bear in mind how extreme a statement it is). I've seen that many times: mainly from friends who fit another stereotype, this time the parents-divorced-at-10-lived-with-my-dad stereotype of those who have been deprived of affection and at the first opportunity go overboard: they want to be touched, hugged, loved at every possibly moment. In Worrier's case this is exclusively directed at women, and passes the boundaries of just-good-friends quite a lot of the time: stroking knees, playing with hair...

This all seems a bit tenuous but more and more over the last couple of weeks Doc and I have agreed. We're becoming pretty certain that Worrier is actually a lesbian and hasn't realised it yet.

There are other options obviously, including the rather extreme example of asexuality, which I'll admit to knowing little about. But seeing as we both independently reached the same conclusion, it seems like a possibility.