A “friends with benefits” relationship is a beautiful, cherished bond that when done correctly, can guarantee you to never be alone, or at least, horny and alone. That was the situation I was in my freshman and sophomore year while I was young and so full of life. I acquired a fuck buddy who also happened to double as a casual friend. Which is why it isn’t surprising that I had caught the feels for this guy, bad. Eventually, after realizing that my little crush was resulting in unrequited feelings, I stopped hooking up with him. I was young, but I wasn’t dumb. I still entertained his frequent texts and his Snapchats, but I did everything I could to stay away. With the lack of sex and hanging out, his texts slowed down, and eventually stopped right around the beginning of junior year. Assuring myself that it was because he got bored of trying, I moved on.
Fast forward to December of senior year. There I was in that state which causes even the most stable women to become reckless — horny and alone. After years of asshole boys, shitty professors, and stress on stress, I was on the last leg of my college career. And I wanted to live as crazily as I could while I still had the chance. Knowing that he was reliable and more than likely available, I seized my opportunity to act like a freshman again. I Snapchatted him drunken selfie videos showing him how cute I was, and like clockwork I received the fateful text message.
After some annoying planning and back-and-forth, he came over to pick up right where he left off.
Maybe it was my underlying feelings for him (that I am still in denial of having), but I agreed to make a habit of hooking up with him again. So when I woke up on New Years in my hungover daze and saw on Facebook that he was in a relationship, I was pissed. Now who was I supposed to hook up with that actually knows how to get me off? And furthermore, why the fuck did he have a girlfriend?
I accepted defeat but didn’t let that stop me from still occasionally creeping on him and his new girlfriend. Which brings me to February when I was minding my own business at work by not working and saw the first photo that his new girlfriend tagged him in on Facebook. I scrunched my face at her perfect hair and adorable smile but was ready to let it slide without obsessing, until I laid eyes on the caption.
“Happy one year anniversary babe, love you!”
Gasping loud enough to make my supervisor question my sanity, I continued my search through the past year of my fuck buddy’s Facebook and Twitter. There was absolutely no sign of a girlfriend or even mild flirtation. What man keeps his girlfriend off of social media for a year? What girl is okay with being M.I.A. from her boyfriend’s social media for a year?
What DID IT MEAN?!
Against my best friend’s advice, I decided to text him. I know I know. Big mistake right? But at this point, I was no longer thinking rationally. It was like I was hovering over myself, watching my body fuck up my life in a sort of angry auto-pilot. Upon a quick text, it was revealed that he deleted my number. In my rage and desire for the truth, I moved past the “who is this” nonsense rather quickly and got straight to the point. My fingers shook as I texted him the question burning on my tongue.
“Did you have a girlfriend when we hooked up in December?”
His response was long, apologetic, and gave some excuse about how they were on a break. He was super depressed. He was sad. He liked me. Blah blah blah. It really didn’t matter. The truth was, he had had a girlfriend and I was the bitch who was between them. Apart from LOLing at the fact that he Ross and Rachel’d his own girlfriend, I didn’t really care what he had to say. So I deleted his number, muttered a few obscenities to myself, and chose not to reply to him. I think I really just wanted the confirmation that he did, in fact, keep a girlfriend off of social media for a year. Come on, how does someone maneuver that?
A few minutes later as I am walking out of work and headed to class, I received an unknown text message that just said “Hi.” Nothing creepy about that, right? Not thinking anything of it because I was too busy still being pissed that my FWB had a girlfriend and astounded that he kept her out of his social media for so long, I casually ask who the person was.
“This is [basic bitch name], [FWB’s] girlfriend. He told me what happened between you two.”
This has to be a joke, I fuck her boyfriend and she’s texting me? Is this about to be a cliché situation where the girlfriend blames the wrong person? I had not even had my coffee that day, I was so not in the mood to deal with a crazy. After I didn’t respond she texted again,
“I just want to know, was it really only once?”
Oh so she wasn’t crazy, she just didn’t trust him. Which honestly makes sense because who trusts a guy who hides his girlfriend from social media for a year? I can’t be the only one who thinks that is insane. I reassured her that it was just that one time while they were dating (lies). Also adding that I would never do that to another girl knowingly. Which was another total lie because this wasn’t my first rodeo with being the “other woman.” Hate me, but it’s the truth.
Thinking about it now, I really respect that she had the balls to text me. It can’t be easy texting the girl who fucked your boyfriend regardless of if you were actually on a break or not. So when she asked me to tell her if he ever tried to do it again, I told her I totally would, then I promptly blocked her number.
The only this worse than a shitty FWB, is a shitty FWB with a cool girlfriend. When they inevitably break up, I can’t wait to turn him down once and for all. Maybe. I might get laid first. What?! A girl can’t help that she’s lonely and horny..
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