The GF Dept.

Sometimes I recall a friend from my past and wonder how they are doing today. Has life been kind? Are they happy? Sometimes I obsess. I must know.

In mid December, I searched for Ava*, my lab partner in Human Anatomy 101 in college. She aspired to be a nurse. I had to fulfill the biology sector of General Ed, and wanted something not boring. Huge mistake. I was in over my head.

Even though I had grown up in Asia, where studying for exams meant memorization and more memorization, those Latin terms in Anatomy 101 I found nearly impossible to remember. In lab, where we were supposed to pick delicate muscles apart and identify them, I tore them and hoped that no one would notice.

Great. I guess I am not qualified to be medical personnel. That's one field ruled out.

It didn't help that class started at 8 a.m. Monday, Wednesday and Friday and I was still mostly a night owl then. As the day grew shorter in the fall, I started to skip class quite regularly. In the lecture hall setting, the professor didn't take roll and couldn't care less about attendance. I studied the textbook on my own.

"You should come to class!" Cooed Ava. "It's fun!" And she insisted that there was a lot to be learned in class that wasn't in the book.

I managed to pass and, not long after, moved away from the college town. Years later I realized I never forgot Ava, her positive outlook and enthusiasm. I didn't have many friends then. And she actually wanted to talk to me. The wild excitement in her eyes talking about where her passion lay, the kindness.

Through the years I've had more than a handful of loving, meaningful, platonic relationships with women. Sometimes so intense I have an urge to kiss them, but not in a sexual way. No wonder, since it is the mind I fall in love with. Connection is connection. Doesn't need to lead to romance.

17 days after I messaged on FB an Ava with the same last name as my college mate, she wrote back to confirm that indeed she was that Ava.

"You have a good memory!" She wrote.

"I remember only good people," I replied. And earned a virtual chuckle.

She had switched from nursing to social work and psychology, she informed me. I always knew she'd do great things, I told her. She asked me where I lived. It was a short conversation. There was no "Let's meet up sometime!" or "If you ever find yourself in [this area], hit me up!" Not even feigned elation that I had found her.

I wonder if there was a creepy factor in looking for her.

I have to conclude I don't have much luck in the girlfriend department. (Luck has not much to do with it, I am sure.) Years later, I still don't have many friends. (That's a joke. Do I have any friends? Not nearby, anyhow.)

Last year, I was on Bumble solely for their unique BFF feature - designed for women looking for platonic friends. It was like white girls central. Specifically, white girls looking for like minds. And by like minds, we mean white girls.

Not daunted, I looked, and swiped. I went on a few dates. Yes, friending felt a lot like dating: the jittery bouts, the insecurity, the uncertainty about etiquette... You want to appear confident yet approachable. You don't want to come across as desperate.

I never got a second date. Not once. There were a couple of women I would have loved to hear from again. But perhaps I wanted to connect deeply too soon and scared them away. I've done that with guys, too.

There was this one woman with whom I stayed in contact for months and months. Neither of us ever brought up meeting up again. Or we did but the timing was off. After a while we would just randomly chat, seemingly pointlessly. I didn't want to lose touch. She was driven, intelligent, impactful. Yet I wasn't dying to make plans to see her again.

On a recent Sunday, I texted her like an old friend, "Are you going to the [city where she lives] farmers market today?"

She didn't reply. I guess she's had enough of a relationship that is not real friendship.

With introspection I have to entertain that perhaps I don't want friends badly enough to make time, or break routines for. Perhaps I just like the idea of having friends.

Earlier I was reading an article in the Modern Love section of the NYTimes submitted by a millennial who happened to be polyamorous and bisexual. She confessed that crushing on a woman can be more nerve-racking that on a man because women are intimidating in that they could see through your efforts and vulnerabilities. Somehow that resonated.

I may never get good in the girlfriend department.


*Not her real name