Tuesday, 22 March 2011
I met a guy at a party about two months ago. I was drunk, he was drunk and off to his place we went. We hooked up but didn’t have sex. We cuddled and talked all night long and in the morning he drove me home.
The following night I got a call from an unknown number, it was him. I tried not to sound too excited, but the simple fact that he called instead of texted was a plus in my book. He invited me to the gym and back to his place to hang out, which turned into me showering over there (alone) and us having a weeknight sleepover. Three indications that this was not just a hook-up.
I slept over his house three or four times a week. I brought my toothbrush over there and slept in his clothes. I decided I was ready to have sex with him about two weeks in. It was a lovely night full of wine, movie-watching, and of course fucking.
Early on we established what we wanted, or at least we thought we did. He said he didn’t want to date me and I said I didn’t want to be used for sex. So we became friends with benefits, but the benefits came before the friendship.
He taught me how to cook and agreed to watch my favorite TV shows. I loved it. He texted me almost every day and was always the one to initiate it. I smiled each time. He played his guitar and brought me food in bed. I felt like a princess. He introduced me to his roommates. I could spend hours talking to them. He came to my dance show and brought his friends. I was very impressed.
I really opened up to him. I told him about my past and how I was ready for a change. He listened and seemed to really care. Tears filled my eyes. Emotions were now involved. And after all of this we were no longer just hooking up, but we weren’t dating either. There were no labels involved but we did do couple-y things.
Things went downhill after the initial fun and games. He had his cake and wanted to eat it too. I wanted to keep things going how they were. Although dating him would have been nice since that was essentially what we were doing, I was okay with the friends with benefits situation—as long as we both benefited from it.
After the first month of making all the right moves, I realized “Mr. Nice Guy” was too good to be true and no matter how much I loved the attention, he was clearly not worth my time. I left his house crying way too many times. He got mad when I came over to hang out but didn’t pleasure him. He said we could chill but then decided it was too late. He asked for a blow job but said he didn’t want me to stay the night. He even said, “Girls shouldn’t have a problem doing that for guys they like.”
Then he admitted that he only wanted to hook up when he wanted to, not when I wanted to, and that he didn’t want me to stay the night or anything. He was doing exactly what he said he wouldn’t do—using me.
Have you ever been in a situation like this? How would you react?