Tag Archives: sex

Are we dating, or just Friends With Benefits?

8 Nov

If you’ve very recently started dating somebody new and, while you’re cosied up together on a rainy Sunday afternoon flicking through Sky Movies, he suggests watching the Mila Kunis vs. Justin Timberlake rom-com Friends With Benefits, this should not be taken too literally. Should it?

I mean, we have a great time together when we see each other. Which, due to the fact he lives in London and I live 130 miles away, has only been twice in the last month after our initial hook-up. That’s fine, it’s good to not rush it. But I guess what’s bugging me is that he doesn’t get in touch in between dates. He doesn’t text to see what I’m up to at the weekend, or just to say hey. In other words, he doesn’t text just for the sake of it. He is a man with reason, who only texts to arrange the next time to meet up. I, however, am quite a fan of exchanging perfunctory texts with a new beau. It shows you’ve been thinking about them, or vice versa.

Just the other day, for example, I texted a photo of the book I just started reading. In hindsight this may have been a mistake, because the book in question is Jon Ronson’s The Psychopath Test. “I’ll let you know how you score” I wrote, with a winky face ;) to make it clear I was joking and didn’t really think he was a psychopath. “Crikey!” he wrote back. “Could you let me know how you score too? Xx” Two kisses – but no winky face. Shit. He thinks I could be a psychopath and that’s why he only wants us to be Friends With Benefits. Just like Kunis and Timerlake, only with less witty one-liners and more post-graduate debt.

Hurrah! I get the all clear

1 Nov

I don’t have an STD after all. After doing the pee-in-a-pot chlamydia self-test before work and then worrying through a busy day of meetings and Googling on my iPhone to find my nearest GUM clinic – all the while ignoring vitriolic text messages from Jealous Ex – he eventually confessed that he’d made the whole thing up. Although he didn’t exactly say “made up”. He gave the following explanation:

It turns out while I was on holiday he convinced himself that he’d caught something (just like he convinced himself I was cheating on him) and went to get tested, only he was too impatient to wait the two weeks for the results. So he got a friend to prescribe him antibiotics for chlamydia and gonorrhoea (I have no idea who he knows that has access to that kind of shit). His ‘symptoms’ cleared up soon afterwards and when his test results came back from the clinic they were negative. But that didn’t stop him from using his fictional STD as solid evidence that I’d been unfaithful and using it to justify a tirade of abuse against me the other night.

None of this actually matters anymore because right now all I can feel is relief. 1) That I don’t have an STD, and 2) That just at the point where I was starting to question whether breaking up with JE was for the best, he proved to me what an unhinged asshole he is. I texted him “Goodbye” before deleting his number for good and poured myself a large glass of wine to celebrate.

And besides, I have another date with T. to look forward to this weekend ;)

A close shave

31 Oct

This morning after getting out of the shower I decided to give my lady garden a trim ahead of my appointment at the GUM clinic later. I have a special shaver for this, one of those Gillette devices that allows you to trim to various lengths. But because it was 6.30am and I was still half asleep and rushing to get ready for work, for reasons unknown I removed the safety shield on the razor.

Consequently I can now see A LOT more of Daphne than I have in a long time (yes I have a name for her, that’s not weird). I used be partial to a Brazilian wax, but in recent years I’ve become fonder of look that’s softer, more fuzzy (though still neat). Now I don’t even have so much as a landing strip to prove I’m over 16. Poor Daphne looks like GI Jane. My bikini line has been scalped. And what will T. think of my new buzz cut? There’s just three days to go before I see him next. All I can do is hope it grows back a bit more before then. Perhaps I should fashion some sort of merkin? Or cut my losses and go the whole hog and clean shave the lot?

Oh shit. I think I have an STD.

30 Oct

I’m so angry I have to write this down. Today a package arrived from Jealous Ex, with the wallet I left in his car three months ago, before I knew that would be the last time I saw him because he would dump me over the phone the day after I got back from holiday.

(Actually the package was from my former flatmate in Bristol, who’d posted it after JE dropped it off at my old flat because he couldn’t be bothered to post it himself. This is probably not relevant though.)

Anyway I texted JE to say thanks for dropping it off finally. And because I was still feeling bad that we never got to say a proper goodbye and had been arguing a lot towards the end, mostly because he was obsessed with the idea I’d been cheating on him, I sent him what I thought was a nice lets-get-some-closure-now text. Notice how I apologise even though I did nothing wrong because I’m trying to offer an olive branch. The very same one I’d like to crack over his head at this moment.

“I’m sorry it ended so badly with us. I hope if our paths ever cross again at some point we can be friendly. After all, we had some good times too! Bye x”

What I received back can only be described as a barrage of abuse, beginning with the line: “You’re so proud and so stubborn. I loved you and would have done anything for you. But you still went ahead and fucked me around.”

There it is. He still thinks I cheated on him, even though I never did and there is nothing to suggest otherwise.

I text back: “No need to be mean. I did love you too & if you believe that you’ll know I never fucked you around because I’m not that kind of girl.”

And get this: “You are a compulsive liar! You gave me an STD you fucking lack wit!”

At which point three things flash into my head:
1) Shit. I might have an STD.
2) Which one?
3) If I didn’t cheat on him (and I definitely didn’t) that means he must have cheated on ME.

There’s only one explanation I can think of. When JE and I broke up briefly at the beginning of the year, because he made me cry on my birthday by being an utter arse, he then went and slept with someone else. So maybe she gave him an STD, which means he probably passed it to me. I don’t have any symptoms, although I know with chlamydia there sometimes aren’t any. I’ve never even had crabs before. I’m freaking out a bit right now.

Actually, there is another possible explanation. JE is making the whole thing up because freaking me out is exactly what he wants to do. This hypotheses is strengthened by the fact that he won’t tell me what the alleged STD is because “why should I tell you the truth when you have never offered me the same courtesy. You lie all the time!!! See where it gets you…? I know you cheated on me. I hope it was worth it…”

Luckily my sister just happens to be a sexual health advisor and has kitted me out with a free chlamydia test where you just pee in a bottle and stick in in the post (after putting it in a sealed envelope first, of course). Her opinion is that JE is a psychotic jealous liar, which I’m inclined to agree with, although I’m going to get tested at the GUM clinic after work just in case. I’m still seeing T. in London every other weekend or so and thank God we’re using condoms, apart from recently when one broke and I had to get the morning-after pill. I’m going to wait for the test result before I mention anything to him.

If JE discovered he had an STD and didn’t warn me to get checked out that’s so fucked up and irresponsible I can’t even comprehend it. And if he’s lying, that’s just as bad. I can’t believe he’s being so nasty.

But really, it’s time for a reality check. Step away from the rose-tinted glasses. He was like this for pretty much our whole realtionship.

The last text I sent him read: “Thanks for being such a dick. I was actually starting to miss you.”

I try to remember how to play it cool

4 Oct

So just when I think I’m going crazy because I haven’t heard from T since spending an amazing weekend with him in London (although as my sister points out, this was only four days ago), I get a text from him on my way home from work. I’m so excited it’s all I can do to keep the car on the road.

“So, what are the chances of persuading you to come down to London, say next weekend? I’m worried there are parts of Brixton you haven’t seen x”

I breathe deep and try to remember how to play it cool (as if I ever knew).

“You mean there’s more to Brixton? I have an excruciating work awards ceremony on Friday [this is true, I can’t get out of it and I’m not even nominated for anything], but if you’d care to show me the sights on Saturday, I’d say your chances were pretty good… x”

“Done,” he says. “Yes there’s tons more stuff in Briston but I’ve changed my mind and I’m not gonna let you see any of it xx”

Two kisses? I can’t stop grinning.

I book a train to London for the following Saturday and text him to let him know what time I’ll be arriving. “Can’t wait,” I type.

Hang on, that’s not playing it cool. That’s playing it keen. I deleted that bit and sign-off with a jokey comment instead about already having seen the highlight of Brixton.

“I’ll meet you at the Tube station,” he texts back. “Can’t wait.”

I get dumped – for NOT being unfaithful

2 Sep

“I’ve been kind of dreading this call,” he said.

I groaned. But hadn’t I seen it coming? Hadn’t I been mentally rehearsing my break-up speech on the 12-hour flight home from Sri Lanka only a day earlier? Had I bought him a sweet but inexpensive souvenir gift that I could easily palm off on somebody else just in case we split up? Hadn’t I spilled my guts out to my friends on holiday about how his jealous streak was out of control, Continue reading

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