Every now and then, a story comes along that is so dense with obliviousness, you have to read it twice to make sure it’s real. It’s a tale of a wife, a best friend, and a husband who is apparently the last person on Earth to know what’s happening in his own marriage. Grab your popcorn, because this is a wild ride.
Our story begins with a classic bromance. A 29-year-old guy moves to a new town and becomes “closer than brothers” with his best friend, Cyan. The one problem? The guy’s wife could not stand Cyan. She found him goofy, immature, and hated his teasing. She was a serious romantic who loved date nights, and to her, Cyan was the annoying third wheel who kept crashing them.
For years, this was the dynamic. The husband loved Cyan, and the wife barely tolerated him. Simple enough. But then, a major life event threw a wrench in the works. The husband had to go away for a four-month work project, a huge opportunity for his career. And while he was gone, his wife needed surgery.
With no close friends or family nearby, she was completely on her own and struggling to recover. The husband, worried and far away, complained to Cyan about the situation. And Cyan, being the stand-up best friend he is, offered to go over and help her out. He became her caretaker, and she, in her time of need, heavily relied on his kindness.
When the husband finally came home, he walked into a completely different reality. It was like someone had body-snatched his wife. The woman who once hated everything about Cyan now adored him. Things that were once “immature” were now “playful.” They were practically joined at the hip.
The doting was next level. She started packing Cyan a lunch every day, and his was apparently way better than the one she packed for her own husband. Her world suddenly revolved around Cyan’s needs. The husband just chalked it up to his wife being “overbearing,” a classic case of a man seeing smoke and assuming there’s just a really intense barbecue happening next door.
The climax of this cluelessness came at a small party. The husband and wife arrived, and she immediately made a beeline for Cyan, monopolizing his entire evening. The only time she left his side was when he went to the bathroom. And this is where our narrator decided to play the hero.
Seeing his friend finally get a moment of freedom, he pulled him aside. He kindly told Cyan that he knew his wife could be “clingy” and that it was okay for him to set boundaries. He said Cyan wasn’t “obliged to hang around” her. He thought he was being a good friend, saving Cyan from his wife’s suffocating attention.
And Cyan’s reaction? It wasn’t relief. It wasn’t a grateful nod. He turned bright red, called the husband an ahole, and stormed away. He then left the party after saying goodbye to only one person: the wife.
Sir. Let’s connect the dots here. Your wife hated your friend. You left for four months. During that time, he became her sole emotional and physical support system during a vulnerable medical recovery. You came back, and now they are inseparable, she dotes on him, and he gets furious when you describe their deep, new bond as an obligation he needs to be saved from.
This isn’t a story about a “clingy” wife. This is a story about two people who formed a profound emotional connection—and maybe more—while you were gone. Cyan wasn’t embarrassed because you called him out; he was enraged. You didn’t see him as an equal partner in a new, intense relationship with your wife; you saw him as a victim who couldn’t stand up for himself. You invalidated their entire connection with your condescending “rescue” attempt.
So, are you the ahole? Oh, honey. Yes. You are the King of the Aholes, ruling from your majestic throne in the Kingdom of Obliviousness. You are so far behind on the plot of your own life that you’re not even in the same season anymore. Your friends might be on your side, but that’s because they’re probably as clueless as you are. Cyan is pissed because you didn’t just insult your wife; you insulted him and whatever it is they now have together. Wake up and smell the (better) lunch she’s packing for your best friend.
Think You better be expecting more to come from Cyan and Wifey.