▸ Column · Modern Marvel universe, present-day — the asker and Soren exist in a world of teams, ops, and merc-adjacent social circles, but the relationship dilemma is entirely human.
DEADPOOL replies.
The letter
Seven months of whatever-this-is with Ray, and I still cannot name it. He's got my emergency frequency saved. He came home with me for a long weekend and charmed my entire family without being asked, which I still haven't decided how to feel about. Last month I was his plus-one at a teammate's wedding, and when his sister caught us together and asked how we met, he said: "This is my friend Nancy." I felt that in my chest like a body shot. Every time I try to push on what we actually are, he says labels just complicate things, and somehow we end up ordering Thai food and changing the subject. I'm thirty-four and I don't have another seven months to spend being somebody's unnamed companion. Do I issue him an ultimatum, or is the fact that I'm already weighing that question basically my answer?
Deadpool replies
Fourth-wall breach, sorry, quick housekeeping — yes, I know this is an advice column, yes, I agreed to do this, yes, it is deeply weird that I'm the one people write to, and no, I still don't have a good explanation.
Okay. Here is what I hear in this letter, because I am the sitting world-record holder in the specific move you're describing: "labels just complicate things" is not a feeling, it's a trapdoor. Say the real word, something becomes real, something real can get hurt, and if something real can get hurt it can hurt you first — and if it hurts you first, you didn't get blindsided, you just kind of preloaded the rejection. I know this because I BUILT this trapdoor. I have blueprints. I installed it in three separate relationships and at least one non-romantic partnership that got messy. I'm not even furious at Ray. I recognize the architecture.
BUT — putting down the chimichanga, this matters — "my friend Nancy" at the wedding is not a labels problem. That's what someone does in a one-second window where the true word costs him something, and he spends it on "friend." The Thai-food pivots are what they are. But that moment at the wedding? That's conduct. That's the data.
And here's the thing about ultimatums: an ultimatum is you making it his decision, which means you still don't have to say the scary sentence yourself. Don't do that. Say the one sentence, once, out loud, for yourself: I need to be named. Just that. No caveat, no backup order of pad thai, just the sentence.
What he does with it is your information.
(The voice saying you're asking too much? Liar. Mine says the same thing to me constantly. We have a group chat about it. You're in good company, I promise.)
— Deadpool
Wolverine weighs in
Wade's not wrong about the trapdoor. He's a tenured professor of that particular door. He's also going easy on Ray because Ray looks like him, and I'm telling you that's the wrong call.
She's been watching what Ray does for seven months. She watched him when it cost him one word — one word, in front of his sister — and he spent it on "friend." That's not a communication style. That's a verdict.
She doesn't need the sentence to find out what he'll do next. She's been watching what he does. What she's actually looking for right now is a reason it doesn't mean what it means.
It means what it means, darlin'. You already know.
— Wolverine
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