I Desperately Want a Friend With Benefits
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Hmm…What if there was a way to have sex with someone you consider an attractive friend, without any strings attached?
What if, no matter how intense the underlying feelings or emotions, how mind-blowing the sex may be, or how deeply you think you’re falling in love with the person, you stubbornly refuse to label it?
What would you call that?
Can sex be both meaningful and meaningless?
Clearly, a spontaneous romp in a bathroom stall or storage closet is not considered a friend with benefits…it’s called having sex with a stranger and praying you don’t get pregnant or catch a disease.
Is it meaningful? At the moment it feels good, but when it’s over…an orgasmic memory can only go so far. Other than the fumes from the wild ride, there is no lasting benefit — it’s essentially meaningless.
A ‘friend with benefits’ defines that middle ground between hooking up with strangers (meaningless) and labeling something a relationship or marriage (meaningful).
If sex happens in the woods and nobody hears it, did it actually happen?
Those getting their fair share of sexual activity may not care if anyone knows they’re getting laid, but for us average folks, sex isn’t real until we’ve told all our friends and backed it up with DNA evidence.
A strange psychological mental trick occurs when we underplay something that waddles and quacks, yet we refuse to call it a duck.
If we label someone our boyfriend or girlfriend, we’ve set expectations high. When you call someone a friend with benefits, we lower expectations.
Protect your heart
For those of us stuck in the Flinstones age, sex is not a stand-alone recreational event. It’s part of a much larger, grander, deeper, more spiritually committed relationship or marriage.
And so, the concept of a “friend with benefits,” sounds like, “we’re both afraid of getting hurt so let’s pretend we’re in a perpetual state of non-commitment, so when it’s over, it doesn’t hurt too much.”
It makes perfect sense, we’ve evolved to justify, and make sense out of, our animalistic instincts.
Married my first true love
At 22, I married my first girlfriend…was divorced at 30…married again at 32…divorced again at 45….in a serious relationship at 46…broken up at 50…a couple of online girlfriends until 54…and complete singlehood for the past year and a half.
That one paragraph encapsulates my entire life’s worth of romantic love.
I never had high school or college girlfriends…I simply didn’t — I was too busy drinking, smoking, and eating fried foods to add any more stimulants to the mix.
I need a little advice
Should I filter myself as just wanting casual relations on a dating app?
Pretend to want a serious relationship, then steer it toward a perpetual friend with benefits?
At what point do I transition the friendship into sex? Do I simply say, “My dear friend, I’ve been thinking, if we add sex to this plutonic adventure, I think it would swell things enormously…I mean be swell.”
How many friends with benefits can I have? And, if we’re only having sex with each other, isn’t it really a relationship, no matter what we call it?
Okay…nevermind
It’s clear.
I’ll never have a friend with benefits…I overthink things too much.
I am working on it though — it’s the transition part I’m struggling with.
How’s this, “I just want to let you know that you’re my best friend…we have so much in common and fun together —chatting, laughing, singing, dancing, and…..Oh, by the way……I happen to have a raging erection — we might as well make the best of it, right?
Would that turn you on?
Summary
All I want is someone who accepts me for who I am, takes life one meal at a time, and loves me no matter what.
I want to know what it feels like for a friend to suddenly want me sexually, and for the feeling to be mutual — but I don’t know what I would call that.
I want to introduce someone as my friend and flash a smile that says, “Yep. We’re not just friends, we’re sleeping together. Tee hee hee.”
Of course, I want the security of labeling something, once it includes exchanging bodily fluids, as being a relationship, or even an engagement, should it warrant.
I suppose the middle ground is to tell everyone I have a friend with benefits, but when I close my eyes at night, pretend she’s really my princess bride.
For now, though, my friend, holding hands is beneficial enough for me…I take things very slowly.
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This post was previously published on Hello, Love.
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