Just Friends?

The attention from my coworker was nice. A little too nice.

By Jennifer Graham

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I looked up to find Michael's warm brown eyes focused on me. They were filled with tenderness, and his smile revealed bemusement, indulgence, and affection. I read an intense fondness in his expression—a fondness beyond what should have been there. I felt shocked, as if I'd caught him revealing a secret corner of his soul.

And I suddenly felt scared.

I averted my eyes. Although Michael sat directly across the wide conference table from me, I didn't look at him for the rest of the meeting. But I also couldn't focus on the financial reports. Two thoughts tangled in my brain—a panicked, Oh no! I was right!He feels it too! and a heart-wrenching, Oh, dear God, why can't you make my husband look at me like that?

In the year I'd worked with Michael, he'd become my special friend. On my first day, my boss had introduced him as the "brilliant member of our team." At first, I felt intimidated. But Michael and I learned we'd graduated from high school the same year. Our camaraderie blossomed as we talked trivia about our era. When we needed a break from work, we discussed old TV shows, movies, and events—sharing our memories.

Eventually we moved beyond the trivial to the personal. I learned about the insecurities he felt from being adopted, being a racial blend, and being reared in a blue-collar family while now having a white-collar job. In turn, Michael learned about my fears and frustrations and listened and understood and let me vent.

As our friendship developed, it moved into a spiritual realm. My scholarly friend loved theology, and I knew enough doctrine to get me in trouble. As Michael discussed the deep directives, history, legacy, and symbolism of Christianity, I challenged him with, "Yes, but is that scriptural, or just tradition?" and "How does this affect a Christian's everyday life?" He started to integrate practicality into his theories, and I learned more about church heritage.

Michael became a refreshing part of my life.

Though more intelligent than Michael, my husband, Jon, has a competitive nature. What he considers an invigorating debate feels like an argument to me. So I stopped discussing the "fun stuff"—philosophy, theology, and theories—with Jon. We talked only about problems with the kids and other stressful issues. That usually sent us to emotionally opposite corners, and I felt out of sync with him.

On the contrary, even when Michael and I tackled the toughest topics, he listened and smiled, then replied in the least threatening manner—even if he drastically disagreed. While my husband saw disagreements as a challenge to prove himself the winner, Michael focused on understanding my perspective. Around Michael, I felt validated, valued, and mentally stimulated.

I don't know when I began to recognize I was too fond of Michael for my own good—and his. I think the reality blast came the morning I woke up after seeing Michael smiling at me in my dreams.

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Originally published in: Marriage Partnership, 2006, Summer, Page 36

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