And some come with a benefits package.
Back in the Fall I decided that I wanted a Fuck Buddy. I had the perfect guy in mind, - well, that just sounds wrong somehow "perfect guy" for this type of relationship, but anyway - someone I knew and trusted that I could have great, and safe, sex with. Someone I wasn't emotionally attached to, but could feel good about being with. Someone who would most definitely give me an orgasm, spoon me afterwards, get me a glass of water in the middle of the night, and kiss me goodbye.
Things were good for a while, we were seeing each other frequently enough to keep our mutual sexual appetites satisfied, sometimes more than that. You know, a classic Friend with Benefits situation. What every single, sexually active girl can hope for, right?
Well, then things took an unexpected turn. Pillow talk became less about the sex, and more about ourselves. We started becoming actual friends and started to care about each other outside of the bedroom. I even started to have expectations, even though I promised myself (and him, in fact), that the only thing I truly expected was clean sheets. How naive of me to think that my usually high rate of expectations wouldn't apply to someone I wasn't interested in truly dating, but was intimate with on a regular basis. Back a couple of years ago we tried to date, but it just didn't work out, and still wouldn't today. Somehow, despite all that history, he got under my skin. Against my better judgment, feelings developed. I suspect for him too, though he'll likely never admit it to me.
For instance, if a random memory of a naked embrace popped in my head, I literally got hot and bothered and would smile suddenly. I started to look forward to the guarantee of an orgasm if I saw him out. I started to assume we would spend the night together if we ran into each other. I started to roll my eyes at myself and say "shit" a lot when I realized this was happening.
I decided to take a break, because I realized that being my FB was not enough. But not because I want more out of him, but because I wanted more out of someone. I wanted all the rest of it. The dinners at home, the making out in the street, the back rubs, the showers any time of the day, you know, the stuff you get when you date someone. The stuff you're not sure your entitled to when you're just sleeping together. Not to mention, when your feelings start to get hurt, it's suddenly not so easy to ignore the red flags you tucked under the bed.
So, after careful consideration, I've decided to fire my Friend with Benefits. Try to go back to just being exes who are still friendly so it's not awkward when we see each other out, which we will. In essence, I'm breaking up with him.
How ridiculous is that? Stupid emotions, ruining a perfectly good Fuck Buddy. It's ok because now I can go back to just being single, and hope that I don't go too long without meeting a nice man who wants some expectations from me.