So sister Mo asks:
You and a good friend – maybe even your best friend – have gotten, well… closer. So close as to have started having sexual relations. It’s all good… now you have the perfect fuck friend, but is it truly possible to keep the FRIEND part going, and indulge in the FUCK part… or have you just irrepairably changed things-and not neccesarily for the better? If you stop having sex…where does it leave you two?
I reply:
I could and have filled this blogs with entries dealing with this. I have experienced both sides of this coin.
About thirteen years ago, a good friend and I got sexual (very, very sexual.) I had just found out that the love of my life had cheated on me, and I wanted something that was mine and we were good friends like I said.
In his case, us having sex deepened our friendship. We always promised that we would remain friends and we have. There were points in our friendship where he wanted more, or I wanted more, but neither of us were capable of giving more, or I was leaving and travelling between islands.
In the end, we accepted that we were better as friends and we have remained each other’s staunchest allies through thick and thin. We both have special places for and with each other, and I doubt that will ever change.
We have had more than one period of sexual activity between us, but no matter what was going on, our promise to keep the friendship in focus is what has saved it.
On the flip side, I thought Sweet Thing/ImFuckingFedUp were friends, and would have probably gone for the fuck buddy thing, if he hadn’t spoken of deeper desires; if he hadn’t initially indicated he wanted more than that. Instead, his inability to take emotional responsibility for himself and spiritual responsibility for his actions or lack thereof, his lies and deceitfulness, have utterly and irrevocably ruined what little friendship we had. No matter how good the sex was (and it was good) I don’t think I would have chosen that road with him if I knew he was tricksy, false. However, all things have a purpose, and false friends have been a theme over the course of the last year or so. I believe now that all that passed between us to be nothing more than a trick of light and shadow. I don’t believe he ever considered me a real friend, like he said, I was nothing more than pussy, In any case, it’s his loss and not mine.
That said, in both situations it was the choices that were made, that made the difference in the relationship. The choice for love, the choice to cower, the choice to be true and speak the truth and the choice to hide the truth; these were the things that altered the flow of the tide in each situation.
I have decided, ultimately that the ‘fuck buddy’ thing doesn’t work for me. Maybe it’s the bitterness of my experience with Sweet Thing/ImFuckingFedUp that has caused me to feel this way, and maybe these feelings will change. However, if it wasn’t for my real friend, the one I mentioned first, I would think the whole arrangement to be fallacy and nothing short of it.
I’m sure it works for some, but nothing stays the same. The only guarantee life gives you, the only thing that never changes is that everything changes.
I doubt that anyone could sustain that type of relationship for an indeterminate span of time. I suppose though, if you really do mean what you say about being someone’s friend, there is nothing that that person says or does that will change that.
Even now, if Sweet Thing/ImFuckingFedUp ever grew enough balls to apologise to me for his fuckery and fuckwittage, I know I would forgive him and seek to salvage some semblance of friendship. However, since I believe that to be unlikely, let the experience serve as a warning: be sure you are mature enough to handle sex without strings, and that you mean friendship in its purest form when you enter to this type of relationship. To enter such a thing with nothing more than lust and momentum is a recipe for disaster. Take it from me. If you don’t believe me, read my entries from April through July 2003. That particular story is already in here.
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