The Cut - Where Have All My Guy Friends Gone?

I have always thought of myself as a “guy’s girl.” I have two brothers whom I text with almost daily; I still see the gaggle of dudes I hung out with in high school whenever I visit my hometown; and once, in college, a guy friend asked me if I peed standing up. So it’s not shocking that, when my husband, Jon, and I moved cities 15 years ago, our first new friend was Brent.

Brent was the rare friend we shared equally. We often spent time together as a threesome, going out to bars or cooking the Momofuku pork-shoulder recipe in one of our apartments. But we each hung out separately, too. I would meet up with Brent for a drink when Jon was too busy with work; he and Jon would catch a show when I was busy with grad school or other friends. Once, when Jon was out of town and I was in a rough place, Brent took me out dancing, and everything seemed better after a night awash in the particular and satisfying attention of a man who thinks the world of you but isn’t trying to fuck you.

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