MY F*CK BUDDY BECAME MY LOVER

June 24, 2018

 

He was supposed to remain my fuck buddy. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just a fuck buddy. If only life were that simple; if only he didn’t have the type of love I had been searching for my whole life.

 

It all started on a summer day. Birds were chirping and tequila bottles were being emptied by the hour; we were lit. One thing led to another and before I knew it,  we were making out in his basement bedroom.

 

“You don’t want these problems” I said boldly.

 

“What if I do?” he questioned.

 

...And so it began; typically only doing the do on drunk nights. When it all started, we did a pretty good job of keeping it on the low.  We discussed no feelings, we affirmed no commitments nor did we cuddle. We just fucked. That was it. We somehow remained best friends through it all. We often discussed race, politics, sports and everything in between. Our hangouts usually included weed, chess, and good conversation followed by good sex. Then we both went our separate ways.

 

We had an unspoken vibe; the rules were understood.

 

It slowly went from being an “only when we’re drunk” thing to a “whenever you come over” thing. Eventually it started happening when we were completely sober, in the daylight, or whenever either of us simply felt like it. After about a year or so of this happening on & off, it was time for me to move onto bigger and better things. I graduated, found a job in my field and moved back to the big city. My assumption? He and I were done. Although I had become accustomed to sleeping with him and only him, a bigger city meant new dick, new adventures and new fun (what can I say, I was in my prime).

 

My assumption was wrong. I was showered with “I miss you’s” followed by questions like: “when are you coming to town?” I was confused. We both had agreed this would never go anywhere; so why was he throwing hints? It didn’t matter because if I was being honest with myself, I missed his company. I wouldn’t dare bring up the fact that I liked him nor would I build the courage to speak our future into existence. I slipped on the dick and ended up falling in love; and keeping it to myself was the most difficult thing in my reality of love. Internally trying not to explode, externally trying to act tough “Nigga, what feelings?”

 

I slipped on the dick and ended up falling in love.

 

 

I anticipated seeing him. Always hand selecting my outfits and picking the perfect undergarments. “I’m not showing enough leg today” or “That’ll be too hard for him to take off” were common statements I made to myself but turned around and actively denied that I wanted more from him. In reality, I was head over heels for my best friend and forced the title of “fuck buddy” on him. I had no idea what to do with those feelings. I played it cool during the day and gave him all my passion at night. If I couldn’t tell him how I felt, I would show him; make him feel it. Not only did he feel it, but he reciprocated. It was all unspoken but understood.

 

One day, I finally grew some balls. I was high and he was on my mind. I opened up my iPhone, went to my notes, and started drafting what would be the longest text of my life.

 

“Soooo, I like you…” No, that was too direct.

 

“We might as well date at this point…” No the fuck we shouldn’t.

 

“Yo, so I like, like you dude…” what are we, fifteen?

 

After spending about an hour of trying to figure out what to say, I settled for: “I just have to ask, can we ever be a thing?” followed by my observations of what I thought of him and what I thought we could be. He instantly replied using only three words: “Nah, probably not”. What a fucking waste, right? I just had to confirm that he was strict about what we agreed to.

 

I didn't even cry. I just rolled another blunt and wondered if we would be possible in the next life.

 

I proceeded to distance myself. I made peace with his honesty but I could no longer allow myself to be in that space; my feelings were too much to bear. I think the space fucked with his mental. Two months later, he hit me with “So, I’m pretty sure I like, love you…” and I was shook. Surprisingly, although it was something I had already known, there was a particular warmth about hearing him say it.

 

From that moment on, he’s done everything in his power to show me he’s here to stay.

 

Oh, and I secured the title.

 

Next up, a ring.

 

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