On the whole, I love being single. I don't have to account for anyone else when I do anything - my decisions are my decisions. I'm free to come and go as I please, nobody will whinge when I have hairy legs and I don't have to keep putting down the toilet seat. I'm a strong and independent woman with no need to rely on a man for financial or emotional support. So why would I want to be in a relationship?
Today, I discovered why it might be nice to have a man in my life. I'd just been to the mall to stock up on some essential items before my best friend comes to visit me here in Dubai. As I struggled with bags of heavy shopping, I wished the slow moving people in front of me would just move out of the fucking way, and that the parents with kids who kept running in my path would keep control of their little brats. I mean, if you can carry all those designer shopping bags, you can hold your child's hand. Because you can bet your bottom dollar if I whacked the little tykes on the head with any of my bags, the parents would be the first ones to cast me a dirty look. However, this wasn't even the point I wished I had a man.
Red faced, arms aching and sweating from my trip to the mall, I made it home. I put away my shopping but left out the tortilla chips and salsa. I thought they'd be the perfect antidote to my stressful mall trip. I gripped the lid of the salsa jar and twisted it. It didn't open. No worries, it'll loosen, right? It didn't. I tried again, this time using the bottom of my bath mat for a better grip. The bugger still didn't shift. Attempt number three included dipping the lid in boiling water, in the hope it would expand. It didn't. In a last attempt, I put a hole in the top of the jar, but it still wouldn't budge.
Now I was tired, sweating, frustrated and had sore wrists. I cursed being single. Yes, for those moments proceeding my fight with a salsa jar, I wanted a boyfriend. Someone who could flex their muscles and open the lid, so I could gorge on my tortilla chips whilst they felt manly for helping the poor damsel in distress. You see, I wouldn't be the only one who benefits from that arrangement. As it goes, my salsa jar is still sitting on my kitchen work top, unopened and unloved. Just like its owner.
Like I said, I'm happy being single but there are times when it'd be nice to have a man in my life. Of course when you've had no physical love for a while, it's always nice to have a guy satisfy those needs rather than your battery operated friend. No matter what anyone says, the two are just not the same. In fact, they're poles apart - one is a physical satisfaction, the other is an emotional satisfaction with the physical satisfaction being a byproduct.
Then there are times when you've made a mistake and need someone else's opinion on what to do. Perhaps it's not something your friends or family can help with. Or something you don't want to share with them. You know what they say, a problem shared is a problem halved. But they also say what doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger. However, the salsa jar dilemma proves that the latter isn't strictly true. Unless they're referring to my ability to cope with starvation.
Perhaps this is the way men feel when they can't iron out a stubborn crease in their shirt, or are bored of eating beans on toast every night. Maybe women are designed to know nothing about cars and men are designed to know nothing about cleaning products. Maybe it's that way for a reason; to need and desire a partner.
It's funny because I can have a child without a partner. Hell, I can have a child without even having sex, thanks to science and technology. But when I need to open a jar of salsa, I need a man...
Saturday 27 March 2010
Tuesday 23 March 2010
The Seven Year Itch
As it’s been a while since I last blogged, I thought I’d make this entry about someone who has played a significant role in my life over the last seven years. Why haven’t I blogged about this person before? I’m not sure to be honest. I guess it’s the fact that I’ve become so used to our “relationship” that I no longer needed to work it out.
So, who is this person? Well he’s a friend I see every time I visit the UK. He’s tall, cute and we have the most amazing, tantalizing sex. After an on/off relationship for seven years, we know what we like, we know what we’re good at and we know how to please each other. It's been a rollercoaster relationship but we’ve (somehow) managed to remain great friends with exceptional benefits.
We first met in 2003; I’d just returned to the UK after working in Majorca for the summer during my university holidays and he’d just returned to the UK after working in Malia for six months. Initially, we met with the pretence to date, which we did. Twice.
We quickly slipped from dating to being friends with benefits. When we first met, I lived in North London and J lived in West London. I remember hearing him pulling up into my driveway (not a pun) in his TVR and the butterflies I’d get in my stomach… I wanted him and I wanted him so badly. I also remember taking the tube from the house I shared with my uni friends to his place, wearing nothing but a trench coat and high heels!
Our relationship never developed into anything beyond casual lovers. There’s only one reason for this; J will never have a girlfriend. Not because he can’t find one, but because he doesn’t want one. In the time we’ve been friends, I’ve never known him to have a girlfriend. We’ve both talked about other physical encounters we’ve had, but he’s never mentioned a relationship.
At first I thought he was a commitment phobe, and sometimes I do still think that, but then I look back over our relationship and realise we’ve been committed to each other… for seven years! Ok, it’s not commitment in the traditional sense but we’ve always been a constant for one another.
After university, I ended up moving round the corner from J, probably about 150 yards away. I’d creep to his place in the dead of the night in just my underwear and he’d greet me at the front door with a big smile on his face which would lead to a passionate kiss. But, even though we lived so close, our “relationship” suffered. Occasionally we’d fight like husband and wife, although I couldn’t tell you what those arguments were about.
The confrontations were quite verbally vicious at times and we were less intimate than we ever had been but, when we weren’t arguing, we were spending more time together as just friends. We’d be at the same parties occasionally and introduce one another to our friends. Once, I even convinced him to look after my pet rabbit when I was on holiday in Egypt.
A year later, I moved away. Three and a half thousand miles away. Funnily enough, both our friendship and our physical relationship have never been stronger. Both of us are aware the distance puts a barrier over us ever developing deeper emotional feelings for one another, so there’s less of a threat of us ruining what we do have. Or at least I thought so.
It may be that we’re only physically together a handful of times in the year, but we still manage to keep the spark alive when we’re not. Although I never call J when I’m in Dubai, he will occasionally call me. We also video call over Skype, share a lot of intimate text messages, picture messages and emails. Intimately, nobody knows me better. Not even my ex-boyfriend of two years.
J knows me inside out. Sexual fantasies, family issues, past/present relationships… there’s not much we haven’t shared. So, what happens when I’m seeing someone?
Well, J usually questions me about the guy I’m seeing. In the past, particularly recently, he’s acted in quite a jealous manner. But, at the end of the day, he knows I can’t resist him. And although I try to refrain from sending him messages when I'm with someone else, I have succumbed in the past. And if I’m in the UK… well, that’s just dangerous.
It’s not that I’m holding off falling in love because I’d rather sleep with J, not at all. I just haven’t met someone worth giving him up for yet. But sometimes I wonder if I’m I in a danger zone here? Am I lulling myself into a false sense of security? Fooling myself that I don’t have feelings for J? Is it really that I’ve not met anyone special or is that nobody else compares?
Recently, I’ve told a few friends about my relationship with J. Every one of their responses has been “Why don’t you marry him?” or “Don’t you end up marrying guys like that?”. One friend asked me if I loved him. I couldn’t answer. Not because I was ashamed but because, quite simply, I didn’t know. Yes, I care immensely for J but we’ve never spent more than 12 hours together, so how can I possibly know if I’m in love with him?
I do know, however, that I’d find it incredibly difficult to end our seven year affair. In fact, when I tried to end it when I was last back in the UK (for reasons I won’t go into right now), he tried to change my mind. Of course he succeeded. But if it had ended, would we be “just friends” or would it be only a matter of time before we were casual lovers again? Or would we cut each other off completely?
Sometimes I wonder if my friends are right. I mean how many people have maintained a successful fuck buddy relationship for seven years? Out of curiosity, I googled it and found most people’s FB relationships fizzled out within a year. Or one of them ended up falling for the other. Either way, most of them ended up with no further contact with their FB, which is something that would devastate me if it happened to J and I.
Really though, how long will this affair last. Will we still be doing this in five years time? 10 years? 30 years? What if neither of us meets someone we want to settle down with? Will we be grey and wrinkly and still ‘at it’? Will we cave in and just marry each other? Or will we both have forgotten each other by then?
It’s hard for me to imagine my life without J in many ways; I’m so used to him being there. It’s difficult to explain because on the one hand we are just fuck buddies. But then surely you know that breaking away from someone, after sleeping with them for seven years, is not going to be easy for either party. Even if you are both emotionally detached.
All of this makes me wonder if there is more to it than either of us are letting on. On a recent trip back to the UK, I literally snapped my fingers and J came running. And everytime I meet up with him, I feel so nervous and excited. Neither of which are normal behaviours for two people who are supposedly emotionally detached from one another.
Could it be that we both hold a special torch for each other but neither of us have (or want to) recognise it? I’m not opposed to being in a relationship with J, but the circumstances have just never fallen into place. A lot has changed over the last seven years, we’re both far more mature than we were when we first met and I think there’s a lot more mutual respect, but I’m not sure if it’d constitute a healthy relationship.
My dilemma is, I don’t want to be the one to test the waters. We’re honest with each other in so many respects, but we’ve been so adamant that we’re nothing more than friends with benefits in the past, that it’s become too difficult to bring it up with one another. At least that’s how I feel.
I daren’t talk about it with J in case he runs a mile, especially as it could be a waste of a perfectly good fuck buddy and friendship because I’m not even sure of my true feelings towards him.
Question is; should I risk it?
So, who is this person? Well he’s a friend I see every time I visit the UK. He’s tall, cute and we have the most amazing, tantalizing sex. After an on/off relationship for seven years, we know what we like, we know what we’re good at and we know how to please each other. It's been a rollercoaster relationship but we’ve (somehow) managed to remain great friends with exceptional benefits.
We first met in 2003; I’d just returned to the UK after working in Majorca for the summer during my university holidays and he’d just returned to the UK after working in Malia for six months. Initially, we met with the pretence to date, which we did. Twice.
We quickly slipped from dating to being friends with benefits. When we first met, I lived in North London and J lived in West London. I remember hearing him pulling up into my driveway (not a pun) in his TVR and the butterflies I’d get in my stomach… I wanted him and I wanted him so badly. I also remember taking the tube from the house I shared with my uni friends to his place, wearing nothing but a trench coat and high heels!
Our relationship never developed into anything beyond casual lovers. There’s only one reason for this; J will never have a girlfriend. Not because he can’t find one, but because he doesn’t want one. In the time we’ve been friends, I’ve never known him to have a girlfriend. We’ve both talked about other physical encounters we’ve had, but he’s never mentioned a relationship.
At first I thought he was a commitment phobe, and sometimes I do still think that, but then I look back over our relationship and realise we’ve been committed to each other… for seven years! Ok, it’s not commitment in the traditional sense but we’ve always been a constant for one another.
After university, I ended up moving round the corner from J, probably about 150 yards away. I’d creep to his place in the dead of the night in just my underwear and he’d greet me at the front door with a big smile on his face which would lead to a passionate kiss. But, even though we lived so close, our “relationship” suffered. Occasionally we’d fight like husband and wife, although I couldn’t tell you what those arguments were about.
The confrontations were quite verbally vicious at times and we were less intimate than we ever had been but, when we weren’t arguing, we were spending more time together as just friends. We’d be at the same parties occasionally and introduce one another to our friends. Once, I even convinced him to look after my pet rabbit when I was on holiday in Egypt.
A year later, I moved away. Three and a half thousand miles away. Funnily enough, both our friendship and our physical relationship have never been stronger. Both of us are aware the distance puts a barrier over us ever developing deeper emotional feelings for one another, so there’s less of a threat of us ruining what we do have. Or at least I thought so.
It may be that we’re only physically together a handful of times in the year, but we still manage to keep the spark alive when we’re not. Although I never call J when I’m in Dubai, he will occasionally call me. We also video call over Skype, share a lot of intimate text messages, picture messages and emails. Intimately, nobody knows me better. Not even my ex-boyfriend of two years.
J knows me inside out. Sexual fantasies, family issues, past/present relationships… there’s not much we haven’t shared. So, what happens when I’m seeing someone?
Well, J usually questions me about the guy I’m seeing. In the past, particularly recently, he’s acted in quite a jealous manner. But, at the end of the day, he knows I can’t resist him. And although I try to refrain from sending him messages when I'm with someone else, I have succumbed in the past. And if I’m in the UK… well, that’s just dangerous.
It’s not that I’m holding off falling in love because I’d rather sleep with J, not at all. I just haven’t met someone worth giving him up for yet. But sometimes I wonder if I’m I in a danger zone here? Am I lulling myself into a false sense of security? Fooling myself that I don’t have feelings for J? Is it really that I’ve not met anyone special or is that nobody else compares?
Recently, I’ve told a few friends about my relationship with J. Every one of their responses has been “Why don’t you marry him?” or “Don’t you end up marrying guys like that?”. One friend asked me if I loved him. I couldn’t answer. Not because I was ashamed but because, quite simply, I didn’t know. Yes, I care immensely for J but we’ve never spent more than 12 hours together, so how can I possibly know if I’m in love with him?
I do know, however, that I’d find it incredibly difficult to end our seven year affair. In fact, when I tried to end it when I was last back in the UK (for reasons I won’t go into right now), he tried to change my mind. Of course he succeeded. But if it had ended, would we be “just friends” or would it be only a matter of time before we were casual lovers again? Or would we cut each other off completely?
Sometimes I wonder if my friends are right. I mean how many people have maintained a successful fuck buddy relationship for seven years? Out of curiosity, I googled it and found most people’s FB relationships fizzled out within a year. Or one of them ended up falling for the other. Either way, most of them ended up with no further contact with their FB, which is something that would devastate me if it happened to J and I.
Really though, how long will this affair last. Will we still be doing this in five years time? 10 years? 30 years? What if neither of us meets someone we want to settle down with? Will we be grey and wrinkly and still ‘at it’? Will we cave in and just marry each other? Or will we both have forgotten each other by then?
It’s hard for me to imagine my life without J in many ways; I’m so used to him being there. It’s difficult to explain because on the one hand we are just fuck buddies. But then surely you know that breaking away from someone, after sleeping with them for seven years, is not going to be easy for either party. Even if you are both emotionally detached.
All of this makes me wonder if there is more to it than either of us are letting on. On a recent trip back to the UK, I literally snapped my fingers and J came running. And everytime I meet up with him, I feel so nervous and excited. Neither of which are normal behaviours for two people who are supposedly emotionally detached from one another.
Could it be that we both hold a special torch for each other but neither of us have (or want to) recognise it? I’m not opposed to being in a relationship with J, but the circumstances have just never fallen into place. A lot has changed over the last seven years, we’re both far more mature than we were when we first met and I think there’s a lot more mutual respect, but I’m not sure if it’d constitute a healthy relationship.
My dilemma is, I don’t want to be the one to test the waters. We’re honest with each other in so many respects, but we’ve been so adamant that we’re nothing more than friends with benefits in the past, that it’s become too difficult to bring it up with one another. At least that’s how I feel.
I daren’t talk about it with J in case he runs a mile, especially as it could be a waste of a perfectly good fuck buddy and friendship because I’m not even sure of my true feelings towards him.
Question is; should I risk it?
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