The following events sounds extremely far-fetched, and in some ways I wish I was lying. However, I am a self confessed Queen of Awkward situations, and so I feel like this could only happen to me. Let me fill you in from the top…
I mentioned in a previous blog post about this angel of a guy who helped me out with my difficult situation. We got together about two weeks before I was raped for the second time this year; he was a rock. Strong when I needed him to be, firm when I was acting crazy, and listened when I was ready to offload. Unfortunately, about two months after we decided to be ‘official’ boyfriend girlfriend status, he decided he had major ex issues, and that he didn’t want to lead me on with false hope. He had messaged me earlier on in the day saying he needed to come over to chat. I replied saying that if he thought it was necessary he should bring over wine and cigarettes. He arrived in the evening. With wine and cigarettes. I feel like I was very cool about the situation until the bottle of wine was empty. Then I did the crying. All the crying. He left, and inevitably I self harmed again. For the first time in so long. I don’t blame him for this at all; I used him as a massive distraction for what happened. I didn’t give myself the time to process everything emotionally, so thinking that my major support system was just gone, was terrifying. I called him up after it happened, and he came back. He was subjected to my cuts and I regret that every day. He stayed the night, because he is just an angel, and made sure I booked a doctors appointment before he went to work the next day.
Anyway, flash forward maybe…one week? I had a bit of an alcohol fuelled night, and decided he was the enemy. I accused him of treating me as bad as the two guys who raped me. In the drunken moment it felt like he had used me. In the sober moment, I recognised that I had just said a horrific thing. I phoned him up as soon as I saw the messages I had sent him, and made some bullshit excuse to go over to his that evening – he was obviously reluctant, but I went over anyway because I can be pushy as hell when I know I have some apologising to do. He let me into his house later that evening, I apologised, we hung out for a while, and I thought “maybe I can do this friends with benefits thing”. We have good sex, so why waste it, and also why put myself at risk in moments of hypersexuality? I don’t want to sleep with anyone I don’t know and trust implicitly. He eagerly agreed. I have never gone from relationship to casual before, but in all honesty, there was no difference; I would stay over four nights a week, it slowly became more couple-y, and (surprise surprise) my feelings returned very quickly. He called me up a little over a week ago to pick him up from a drunken night out in town, which I obviously agreed to, thinking “ohhh he needs me!” Wrong, Becci. Very very wrong. He eventually opened up to me again, like ohh but I still love my ex blah blah fucking blah. He passed out, and the next morning I slept with him one more time (for my benefit only), then told him not to contact me again. Flash forward…three minutes. It had snowed over night, and as I was driving out of his village, I skidded in the snow and crashed my car. This man drives a van, and I was panicking so called him to rescue me. So much for no contact.
I have figured out that I can’t actually cut off contact with him. We now are genuine friends who fuck and taxi the drunk other person from A to B. I give him relationship advice and what to do about his ex, and we Tinder/Bumble for each other. It is the most bizarre situation I have ever been in, but also ridiculously hilarious. My feelings haven’t completely gone, obviously, but I do want the best for him; if the best for him is a game playing ex, and not a drama-filled-yet-super-fun person who gives amazing blowjobs, then I’m not going to stand in the way.
This is what would be under ‘it’s complicated’ in the dictionary.