So it's the middle of the night and I am awake and feeling nostalgic so I figured I may as well take a minute to begin the "2-6" Chronicles. "2-6", pronounced "two six" was a guy that had emailed me from Match. He said some witty one-liner to test the waters, I responded with something equally as witty and it was pretty much on from there. As with any good dating site first date, we met somewhere highly public with very low expectations. However, upon first seeing, and more precisely, smelling him, things started to look up. He smelled amazing, had twinkly eyes, and seemed kind of shy... all of which hooked me.
We ended up sitting at an outside patio bar for hours talking. Comparing our smalltown Ohio upbringings, musical interests, and dating histories. So far so good.
We did something I hadn't done in a long time after that. We drove around the city, listening to music (much of it was his original music which came with a full narrative from him regarding inspiration provided by one trainwreck relationship for the most part from what I gathered), and just enjoyed each other's company. Neither of us were ready for the night to end and he invited himself to stay the night. I agreed but made it clear there would be nothing happening on the sexual front. That should have been my first clue that things were going to end badly, I liked him enough right from the beginning that I didn't wan to have sex with him right away.
That was one of the best nights I have had in a really long time. True to my word, there was no sex. That doesn't mean that there was not an insane amount of kissing, a lot of attempted pursuading efforts, and even a little begging at one point from him. I stood strong. I had a feeling that things needed to be different with him. He texted me after he left in the morning that me not having sex with him spoke volumes to him in a very good way.
Talk is cheap though and after too many texts to count and a lot of excuses, it became clear that things would not indeed be different with "2-6". He was given an additional nickname during this time, "Rude Boy", ala the Rihanna song of the same title because his behavoir was just that, Rude. He would randomly texts, then disappear, ignore my texts, then reappear when he felt like it. And so this became our pattern.
He said that he didn't think he could be what I wanted him to be for me. I told him he was making some pretty big assumptions about what I wanted. At that point I had made up my mind that he was worth nothing on the relationship front but would make a great fuck buddy. I proceded to tell him just that. He said he didn't usually do well with the friends with benefits set up because he got jealous when the friend started to pursue another relationship. I told him we could do it. We just needed a few rules. Rule #1: we only mess with each other if we aren't messing with anyone else. Rule #2: if the potential for a relationship emerges for either of us, it is game off until and unless said relationship has ended. Easy enough right?
We launched "project hook up" immediately that night. Luckily he lived 10 minutes from me so it was convenient in more ways than one. He requested a dress, no panties, and heels. How original. But I aim to please so that is exactly what he got. The anticipation was amazing, this was a long time coming, no pun intended. I walked into his apartment, got his regular dose of little boy attitude which he confuses with flirting, and then we kissed. And kissed. and kissed. Kissing him was so good. I enjoyed kissing him more than any single part of what would become our regular sex sessions. He had amazing soft lips and he wanted me more than anything and it showed just through the kiss. Those kisses would come back to haunt me later in "project hook up" but that is for another post.
Moral of this post? Just because he can' t be want you want him to be doesn't mean he can't still be useful to you.
Have you had a fwb gone wrong? Regrets or success stories? I would love to hear how you handled it and what you learned from it. Share! Share!
We ended up sitting at an outside patio bar for hours talking. Comparing our smalltown Ohio upbringings, musical interests, and dating histories. So far so good.
We did something I hadn't done in a long time after that. We drove around the city, listening to music (much of it was his original music which came with a full narrative from him regarding inspiration provided by one trainwreck relationship for the most part from what I gathered), and just enjoyed each other's company. Neither of us were ready for the night to end and he invited himself to stay the night. I agreed but made it clear there would be nothing happening on the sexual front. That should have been my first clue that things were going to end badly, I liked him enough right from the beginning that I didn't wan to have sex with him right away.
That was one of the best nights I have had in a really long time. True to my word, there was no sex. That doesn't mean that there was not an insane amount of kissing, a lot of attempted pursuading efforts, and even a little begging at one point from him. I stood strong. I had a feeling that things needed to be different with him. He texted me after he left in the morning that me not having sex with him spoke volumes to him in a very good way.
Talk is cheap though and after too many texts to count and a lot of excuses, it became clear that things would not indeed be different with "2-6". He was given an additional nickname during this time, "Rude Boy", ala the Rihanna song of the same title because his behavoir was just that, Rude. He would randomly texts, then disappear, ignore my texts, then reappear when he felt like it. And so this became our pattern.
He said that he didn't think he could be what I wanted him to be for me. I told him he was making some pretty big assumptions about what I wanted. At that point I had made up my mind that he was worth nothing on the relationship front but would make a great fuck buddy. I proceded to tell him just that. He said he didn't usually do well with the friends with benefits set up because he got jealous when the friend started to pursue another relationship. I told him we could do it. We just needed a few rules. Rule #1: we only mess with each other if we aren't messing with anyone else. Rule #2: if the potential for a relationship emerges for either of us, it is game off until and unless said relationship has ended. Easy enough right?
We launched "project hook up" immediately that night. Luckily he lived 10 minutes from me so it was convenient in more ways than one. He requested a dress, no panties, and heels. How original. But I aim to please so that is exactly what he got. The anticipation was amazing, this was a long time coming, no pun intended. I walked into his apartment, got his regular dose of little boy attitude which he confuses with flirting, and then we kissed. And kissed. and kissed. Kissing him was so good. I enjoyed kissing him more than any single part of what would become our regular sex sessions. He had amazing soft lips and he wanted me more than anything and it showed just through the kiss. Those kisses would come back to haunt me later in "project hook up" but that is for another post.
Moral of this post? Just because he can' t be want you want him to be doesn't mean he can't still be useful to you.
Have you had a fwb gone wrong? Regrets or success stories? I would love to hear how you handled it and what you learned from it. Share! Share!
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