This last weekend of October, from Saturday through last night, I went on a trad climbing trip to Utah with my closest climbing buddy from Colorado. A three-day-two-overnight road trip together. Our first road trip together and a huge step up in our friendship, in our relationship.
Last December we spent nearly 14 hours together one day when he took me ice-climbing in RMNP — a big adventure and step up in our friendship, in the mutual trust & camaraderie between us, already then. But nearly three full days including two nights sharing the same sleeping quarters is a huge step up, especially when considering the circumstances of our trip — the sudden cold & snow that hit Colorado already this weekend, the snow storm warnings for our area & the mountainous region we had to cross on our trip, the issues with my car which forced us to troubleshoot an overheating engine in the snow together and stop overnight along the way.
In hindsight I see, rationally I know, that we had been building up to this kind of experience, this level of camaraderie, this type of friendship, almost since the day we met in the summer of 2022. And yet its unfolding and actually happening over this long weekend still feels like a wonderful surprise to me and something I’m still wrapping my head & heart around.
If love is (using bell hook’s words) a “[…] mix [of] various ingredients — care, affection, recognition, respect, commitment, knowledge, and trust, as well as honest and open communication […] Love is an act of will [… ] the will to extend one’s self for the purpose of nurturing one’s own or another’s spiritual growth”, then this thing between me & climbing buddy is love. As it is with one or two other climbing buddies; as it is with some of my old friends from Europe; as it is with a handful of queer friends; and as it is (even if intermittently) with a close friend in California. All of these relationships except two are, and have always been, platonic — no sex and no romance (except for a couple of cases). And yet, it truly is love: deep, sincere, committed, mutual love. These are people with whom there’s profound intimacy of some kind or other, of different kinds depending on the friendship/relationship, but still profound, trusting intimacy and support. And also, very importantly, a mutual clarity & respect of boundaries — whether implicit or explicit.
Like than line from Ezra Michel’s song “Man of my dreams”:
“All of a sudden I’m the man of my dreams — I can comfort my friends and respect boundaries”
With this climbing buddy from my Utah trip, we don’t need to say in so many words, “We’re not going to have sex with each other because that’s the best thing we can do for each other and our relationship”, but we both know it and openly admitting, putting it into words, this weekend that “climbing together is probably the only kind of relationship we can have because it gives us the closeness, trust, intimacy, and camaraderie we want while also giving us the space & time apart that we need” and saying that our friendship is an example of “platonic polyamory” is huge and lovely. I’ve found similar words or feelings or conclusions with my Italian climbing buddy, with two dear, close queer friends in California and at least one good old friend from grad school.
I love this. It feels so safe and so comforting and nourishing.
Maybe there’s only a certain amount, or level, or closeness/intimacy that I can take… “close” but not “too close”: if it gets close in some aspects (e.g. emotionally and/or through adventurous camaraderie), I/we need it to not be too close in other ways (e.g. physical/sexual intimacy).
I’ve been thinking about this a lot since the separation from my European gender-non-conforming ex-lover this past summer. And I’m coming to believe that there’s nothing “wrong”, nothing to “fix”, nothing even trauma-related for me in this. I’m coming to believe that it’s a “natural” or core part of me, of who I am and how I function, something that I can accept and embrace about myself rather than try to fight or “fix” it.
The Little Prince and the Fox 