If.
A couple weeks ago I had a phone conversation with Aaron, my Californian Friend-in-Fornication (That's so much nicer than Fuckbuddy, don't you think?). He'd told me about a girl he was seeing, and I asked about their date the night before. He told me all about her: she's smart, funny, enthusiastic with the blowjobs and a tad clingy. I understood immediately. I know that type.
I also know this: I can't tell Aaron about anyone I'm seeing, or he'll get jealous. We both know this, and I've gotten accustomed to not bringing up sex I've had with other people. It's not like I see him more than a couple times a year anyway, so why bother with/worry about all that? We've known each other forever. I've had sex with him now for more years than I was married, but I can count the number of movies we've seen together on two fingers. Our relationship pretty much defines the "It's Complicated" status on Facebook.
But I started to wonder, what would happen to that relationship if he got serious and exclusive with someone? What would happen if I did? It seems wrong that we would just not ever see each other again.
So I, in a premenstrual funk and against my better judgment, started that conversation.
In the midst of my mediating arguments between kids, taking special requests for dinner, and removing a splinter from the foot of an eight-year-old, I asked what might happen if we found ourselves in that solution.
And somewhat to my surprise, he came up with a great solution: If either of us decides to be monogamous, we'll have a last fling in Vegas.
Nice, right?
He said this: He doesn't see himself becoming exclusive with anyone, any time soon (me, neither, except I find myself thinking about that more and more); he thinks I'm hilarious and fucking smart and we have incredible sexual chemistry.
I don't see a future with him, seriously, but I'm not comfortable with the idea of just tossing him aside like yesterday's crossword.
I am not comfortable tossing people aside.
Which is why, last week, I got a little freaked out when my friend (with whom I have not had sex) Luke put his arms around me and said, "I like you a lot."
And I like him. But I don't think I like him "a lot." So now what?
There are people I like a lot, but here I go, getting emotional and forgetting to live in the moment. Thinking about what ifs.
I like my life just fine, at present, but I think I could enjoy it a whole lot more.
And, you know, I've never been to Vegas.
I also know this: I can't tell Aaron about anyone I'm seeing, or he'll get jealous. We both know this, and I've gotten accustomed to not bringing up sex I've had with other people. It's not like I see him more than a couple times a year anyway, so why bother with/worry about all that? We've known each other forever. I've had sex with him now for more years than I was married, but I can count the number of movies we've seen together on two fingers. Our relationship pretty much defines the "It's Complicated" status on Facebook.
But I started to wonder, what would happen to that relationship if he got serious and exclusive with someone? What would happen if I did? It seems wrong that we would just not ever see each other again.
So I, in a premenstrual funk and against my better judgment, started that conversation.
In the midst of my mediating arguments between kids, taking special requests for dinner, and removing a splinter from the foot of an eight-year-old, I asked what might happen if we found ourselves in that solution.
And somewhat to my surprise, he came up with a great solution: If either of us decides to be monogamous, we'll have a last fling in Vegas.
Nice, right?
He said this: He doesn't see himself becoming exclusive with anyone, any time soon (me, neither, except I find myself thinking about that more and more); he thinks I'm hilarious and fucking smart and we have incredible sexual chemistry.
I don't see a future with him, seriously, but I'm not comfortable with the idea of just tossing him aside like yesterday's crossword.
I am not comfortable tossing people aside.
Which is why, last week, I got a little freaked out when my friend (with whom I have not had sex) Luke put his arms around me and said, "I like you a lot."
And I like him. But I don't think I like him "a lot." So now what?
There are people I like a lot, but here I go, getting emotional and forgetting to live in the moment. Thinking about what ifs.
I like my life just fine, at present, but I think I could enjoy it a whole lot more.
And, you know, I've never been to Vegas.
