Do you ever think to yourself, “how the hell did I even end up here?”
I was so careful. I tracked every move and prevented certain things from happening so this EXACT situation wouldn’t happen. However, by the grace of Lorde, it still happened!
Have you ever seen Kung Fu Panda? Master Oogway (the turtle) said, “One often meets his destiny on the road he takes to avoid it,” and that’s exactly what happened here.
On my road to what I thought was sexual liberation turned out to be the road to multiple heartbreaks and growing pains.
So without further ado, let me go into excruciating detail about the very tumultuous relationship that was my friends with benefits.
When Dumb-ass #1 met Asshole #2
Back in late 2018, I started what I thought was my “sexual liberation journey.”
I matched with anyone and everyone I could on Tinder, Bumble, and Hinge and made out with random dudes that I met at the club.
I didn’t care for their names. I didn’t want to know their hopes and dreams because I knew I would get attached (I have a big heart), so I would try to keep it as platonic as possible.
I would just fuck them and leave.
At the time, I thought I was cool.
I thought I was taking control of my body and life by sleeping with whoever I wanted and whenever I wanted. I’ve now realized that I was using sex to punish myself, but that’s a story for another time.
Anyways, one fateful evening I matched with this guy on Tinder.
He looked alright: 6’0ft tall, big muscles, good shoulders, and a great beard.
I thought to myself, “he’ll do.”
I swiped right.
We made small talk and realized he lived only 10 minutes away from me.
“Convenient,” I thought to myself.
So after a week of small talk and a phone call, I decided that it was time we met face to face.
One night around 11pm, I stopped by his house on my way home.
I made him come into my car to make sure he wasn’t a murderer. After about 2 minutes of small talk, he invited me inside his house.
Where you guessed it, we had some more small talk.
We talked about what we were looking for and concluded that we were looking for each other.
Not in a cutesy way.
We were looking for people we could hook up with consistently.
Turns out swiping on all these dating apps, talking to new people, making sure they weren’t murders was a lot of fucking work.
So once it was established that neither of us wanted anything serious and that we could be friends with benefits, we fucked.
And considering that I had only had sex a handful of times before this and we hardly knew each other, the sex was lackluster, to say the least.
I laid on my back the whole time as he thrust in and out of me, but I didn’t care.
I just wanted to have sex.
After about 10 minutes, he cummed on my chest as I moaned in fake pleasure because that’s what you do when all the sex education you’ve had has come from porn.
After we cleaned up, I got dressed, and he walked me to the door, and we said our goodbyes.
And that was our first encounter.
I vividly remember looking at him and thinking, ” Yeah, I won’t catch feelings. He is not my type.”
He was/is the type of guy who would say women just fall in love with him quickly and tend to find him very attractive. Instead of looking at this as a warning, I looked at it as a challenge.
So challenge accepted.
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Balls Deep and Deep Talks
Following that encounter, we made an appointment to meet every Wednesday and Saturday to have sex.
I want you to think about this:
Every Wednesday and Saturday for about a year and 1/2, we would meet up.
We would spend about 30 minutes to an hour just talking.
Personally, I didn’t want the talking because deep down, I knew if I got to know him as a person, I would fall for him.
But he liked the talking.
He said he didn’t want me to feel like he was using me just for sex, but that was the whole point of the relationship.
Anyways, after a little bit of small talk, we would start to make out, and then we would have sex.
For the first month, everything was kind of mechanical even the small talk.
The sex was the same. He would get on top of me, we would make out, and then have sex in missionary and doggy, and he would cum.
Out of all the times we had sex together, I never had an orgasm.
This was partially due to the condom drying out, and no matter how much lube we added, it just wasn’t the same. But a big part was because I didn’t know my body that well, and I didn’t really trust him.
Afterward, he would put his arm around me in his post-nut clarity state, and then that’s where the deep talk would start.
We would talk about our thoughts and feelings, our hopes and dreams.
I honestly felt like I was getting an inside scoop to who this person really was despite who he pretended to be.
And soon enough, I was in love.
And the sex no longer felt mechanical but instead became my favorite thing in the world.
When he would lay on top of me and put his head in the crook of my neck once we were done, I would stroke his hair, and I didn’t want to be any other place than there.
And that’s when I knew I was in too deep.
He’s A Drug to You
As time went on, I pretended to not care about him, but he started to consume my waking thoughts.
I tried sleeping with other guys, but they didn’t give me the fix or the dick down that he would give me.
I ended up cutting off the rest of my roster because he was the best. I thought, “why would I fuck anyone else if he was better than them?”
In the aftermath of it all, I learned that he had become a drug to me.
He would give me high when I spent time with him or when he would text me.
My heart would race, and I would smile like a kid on Christmas morning.
But I would drop when he would take more than an hour to respond or just didn’t contact me for days unless it was to confirm the dick appointment.
I knew he didn’t care about me outside of sleeping with me, but he couldn’t admit to himself.
He liked to think of himself as a righteous man who cared about people but would act the opposite way.
I regret that I didn’t stop having sex with him sooner because when I fell even harder for him, I would be rude to him for just wanting sex from me.
I become somewhat vindictive. I would ask him to do things that he would do for a girlfriend, and when he didn’t come through, I would be mad at him.
And now, I recognize how unfair that was.
We had an agreement.
I knew what our type of friendship was and when it was no longer working for me, I should’ve walked away.
But I was hooked.
How could I walk away from someone I needed?
But he wasn’t innocent on his part either.
The high I was talking about came from him telling me that he needed me and wanted me and the worst thing I could do was leave him.
I guess I become the only person he could talk to and be honest with. Still, I felt as if I wasn’t getting anything in return with all the emotional support I was giving.
I felt if I asked, it would be too much, and I would lose him.
And the idea of losing him seemed too much to bear at the time.
The Fallout
A year into it, things started to fizzle out when his classes became harder. At least that’s what he said to me.
He started canceling appointments and making up excuses about not seeing each other because he had tests and exams to study for.
For a time, I respected that because school is important.
It eventually got to a point where I would literally beg him to have sex with me because it would go as long as 3 weeks without sex.
And when we would get together, the sex felt empty again. It was as if he checked out and was only doing it because I begged him.
And then came the point when he no longer could hold an erection for me.
He blamed it on being stressed for school and work, but my ego took a big hit.
I thought to myself, “He is no longer attracted to me. He doesn’t even like me. He isn’t even mentally here when we have sex.”
In July of 2020, after dealing with multiple cancellations and lackluster sex for about 6 months, I decided to cut him off.
He asked one day if I was going to come over and said, “I think we’re done. The sex isn’t the same anymore, so there’s nothing else for us.”
And he replied, “yeah, you’re right. It’s not the same.”
And that was it…until five months later.
The Hit-Up
Picture this: It’s November 2020.
We have been stuck in the pandemic for months, and we have barely left the house.
You are on the road to healing yourself from the somewhat toxic relationship you left behind, and you are ready to move forward.
You deleted their number, and the only way you can contact them is thru Snapchat, but you don’t spend too much time on there, so it’s not an issue.
One day, you decide to post a story to Snapchat about the beautiful sunset. Finally not thinking about who will watch it.
You are content with where you are.
Suddenly, you get a snap notification that your ex-friends with benefits replied to your story, and you see that fateful chat that says, “Hey! How are you? I just wanted to check in to see how you are doing?”
And the butterflies take off.
I was so excited to hear from him and excited to know that he was thinking about me.
So I immediately replied, “I’m doing great! How’s school?”
And to spare you the details of the small talk, he asked if we could meet up because he missed me.
Needless to say, I jumped at the opportunity.
I asked him when was the last time he slept with someone, and he said some girl two weeks ago.
All of a sudden, my stomach did a 180.
A thought that I tried to drown out rose up, “How does he have time to have sex with other girls when he spent the last few months of our ‘relationship’ telling me that he was too busy?”
I pushed the thought down and said, “Okay. Just let me know when we can meet up.”
And I did not hear another word from him.
Do you know how ridiculous I felt?
I wish I could say that the story ended there, but it didn’t.
From December 2020 to May of 2021, I would hit him up once a month on Snapchat to “see how he was doing.”
My poor friend who would tell me to block him and move on would hear me bitch and moan about this guy who didn’t give me the time of day and came to me whenever he wanted, and I just let him.
She would ask me why I would reach out to him if all he did was disappoint me.
And that is when I came to the realization that the version of him that I thought he was and could be was very different from the version of the person he was and wanted to be.
So I told her that I would continue to reach out to him until I was so disappointed by the person he actually was that I wouldn’t care anymore.
And for a while, that worked.
Around May 2021, I stopped reaching out to him. I thought it was over forever.
Until July 2021.
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The Ego Boost
I feel a need to preface this by saying that I have been doing a lot of personal development lately. I have been reading books, watching what type of media I consume, talking to a therapist, and such.
Doing all of that has helped me realize that I used sex to get validation from men and find meaning and desirability within myself. I would use the people I had sex with (even if I didn’t find them attractive or care about them) as currency and an ego boost.
As if to say, “look at this hot guy that I am sleeping with. I obviously have worth and value in this society if this hot jock wants to fuck me [but not take me on a real date].”
So keeping in mind that I had done some inner healing, when my ex-FWB popped back into my life in July 2021 at 11:30 pm at night with a “Hey! How are you?” text, I proceeded with caution.
And thank god, I did because he did the same shit.
The “I miss you. I care for you. The sex was amazing. Blah, blah, blah. You should come over.”
And I thought to myself, “Let’s do a test.”
I told him that I would love to see him and couldn’t wait to fuck him.
All he had to do was set a date and time, and I would be there.
He then proceeded to tell me that he was swamped, and it would have to be in a couple of weeks because he was overwhelmed with upcoming exams and work.
So naturally, I said “of course” and “let me know when it works for you.”
I eventually worked in the question, “When was the last time you slept with someone?”
And can you guess what his answer was…
IT WAS A WEEK BEFORE!
I’m sorry. You are telling me that you had enough time to fuck some girl, but you come into my life and tell me you want to see me and then tell me that you are too busy to see me?!?!
What kind of fucked up sense is that?
Anyways after he ghosted me the second time, I came to an unforgiving conclusion.
And it’s that he uses me for an ego boost.
I believe that he thinks if he still can get me to sleep with him whenever and wherever he wants, then he is good.
Everything can be going sideways in his life, or the girl he actually wants doesn’t want him. However, because Mia (me, the author), despite how shitty he has treated me, would still fuck him, then he must be good.
And it may sound a bit outlandish, but I believe it to be true because why else would you go in and out of someone’s life and treat them as if they are expandable even if you claim to care for them?
I know I used him as an ego boost, but I actually fell from him, and I stopped when it no longer felt good.
He comes back whenever he doesn’t feel good because misery wants company, and there is no better company than the girl who loves you despite how you treat her.
The End
We now come to present-day September 2021.
I have removed him from Snapchat and deleted his number, so I literally have no way of contacting him.
But part of me, the one who still thinks about those long talks and who misses the sex, is holding out hope for the idea that if he cares enough, he will find a way to reach out to me.
So far, he hasn’t.
And maybe something has happened, and I hope not, but I don’t want to entertain that thought.
All I know is that I don’t want to have that type of relationship anymore.
For a long time, I pretended that I didn’t care. That I didn’t want to be in a loving, committed relationship. The only person who got severely burned was me.
In the end, I am glad that I met him.
If I hadn’t gone through this then I wouldn’t have come out of the other side to look at myself with kinder eyes and learn to be honest about what I want.
Part of me still wishes that I knew how he felt. Find out why he would treat me like this, but I know whatever answer he would give wouldn’t be a satisfying one.
So my lesson is:
Be honest with yourself because if you aren’t, you will end up hurting yourself.
And if you choose to get into a Friends-With-Benefits relationship, make sure, to be honest about what you expect. Miscommunication is a bitch. And makes sure it’s with someone you could never fall for, and if you do all for them, you need to stop because you are only hurting yourself.
And remember:
The way someone treats you is a reflection of themselves. If someone treats you like trash, then that is how they see themselves. It’s not about you.
You are perfect just the way you are. There nothing is wrong with you just because someone can’t love you the way you want them to.
