Maybe I should rethink this whole “Friends with benefits” thing

Have you ever been faced with a life problem so difficult, it took several days to figure out?  There are two sides to the argument and yet you manage to find logical answers for both. In the end, you do nothing. This is what happened to me. Fortunately (or Unfortunately?), I found the answer in a place I hadn’t looked into: my dreams. Or should I say…my nightmares?

You see, there’s this girl: We’re really good friends and she’s a real sweet heart. We can talk about many things and when we hang out, we always manage to summon up interesting conversations out of thin air. Like Magic… But like all magic tricks, there’s a catch – and this one is no different- She likes me.

However, I already established with her that I am not interested in a relationship. I’m a lone-wolf. I work alone, I eat alone, and I walk alone. (Cue Boulevard of Broken Dreams) The point is, I’m not ready. Okay, I lied. It’s not that I’m not ready, I’m just not ready for this relationship. So right now, our friendship is what it is: a friendship…..with benefits.

I don’t remember how the conversation started. First, we’re talking about laptops and technology, and next, we’re talking about how we’re both in support of the friends with benefits idea. And from there, we gave each other virtual winks, and we knew. WE KNEW something was gonna go down the next time we hung out (no pun intended).

The thought of having a friend like that was making me (for lack of a better term) fuckin HORNY! I WAS HORNY SON! GAAH DAAAMNN! My boner was about to rip from my jeans and I was gonna to turn into Wolfman, beating my chest and howling at the moon. But something was wrong. Something was off. Something didn’t click. And I knew what it was: she didn’t just like me, she liked me.

Even after establishing our friendship-only relationship, I still felt like she was trying to get closer and closer. And here lies the main problem: I was worried that if I got physical, she would gain even more feelings for me. Now sonny, I could savor the moment and stir up a wicked make-out session, whilst caressing her body, and spelling out my name on her inner thighs with the tip of my tongue.

“NO! Don’t do it! You’re gonna lead her on and break her fuckin heart!” ” NO! Don’t listen to that bastard! GO FOR THE GIRL! Rip off her blouse and have your way with her jujubees! You’re not a lonewolf Ranier, you’re a PIRATE! NOW GO GET YAAR BOOTY! ARRRGGH!”

In order to reconcile with my competing thoughts, I decided to take a nap. I slipped into some sweats, a sweater, socks on my toes, and oh, why not? I’ll try on my brothers sleeping mask. Oooh! The sleeping mask is very snug. Time to go to bed! WOO! *Initiate dream. Cue the “cloudy” corners effect”

In my dream, I was in the school parking lot, waiting for her. I paced around in circles trying to look for her. ” Where is she, where is she, WHERE IS SHE?!” After what seemed like an hour in dream land, I decided to drive off and head home. At home, I cooked a succulent chicken dinner, watched some T.V, and flipped on my Mad Men DVD.

But when I got up to my room, I looked out my window and onto the drive way. My car was there and it was already night time. Darkness was casting it’s cold embrace around my car and the only light came from the silver beacon in the sky. And just as I turned to walk out of my room, I looked again… and I saw a shadowy figure…. in my car.

It was her…

She was in my car. She must have been waiting in the car this whole time. I could only see her silhouette as she wiped away the tears on her face, grabbed her things, and got out of the car. She sat in the middle of my street, arms around her knees, with her back facing me. I felt terrible. I looked out the window and yelled ” DON’T MOVE! I’M COMING!”

I descended the stairs, down the main entrance and towards the front door. The door started to get blurry and broke apart, almost as if my dream wanted to change into another dream. I concentrated hard, trying to make the door reappear. I unlocked the door and flung it open.

And just as I took a step into the cold air,  a song began playing: ” Una notte a Napoli! Con la luna ed il mare! Ho incontrato un angelo! Che non poteva piu volar!” I tried running but I was going nowhere. It was almost as if my legs were going 50 miles per hour, but I was going nowhere.

Finally, I ran into the street, ran to her, and held her shoulders. Her face was gone. It was empty with nothing but a shadow in the middle. I took her shoulders and shook her, trying to bring life back into her soul. “hey! HEY! IT’S ME! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!!! WAKE. UP!!!”

Her face turned into a lifeless doll. The mouth opened, but a sound wasn’t made. I stood up, terrified. I wanted to wake up. I had to. GET UP! WAKE UP RANIER! WAKE UP! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! I could feel myself trying to wake up, but there was a strain… WHA…WHAT THE FUCK?! WHY WONT MY EYES OPEN?!

It was the sleeping mask…

The sleeping mask had pressed against my eyes and made it hard for me to wake up. Just as my eyelids began opening, her doll face melted…and I woke up.

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It’s been about an hour since I had that dream. And since then, I’ve tried to ponder why I had that dream. What did it mean? What did all of it represent? Then it came to me: In the dream, she was left alone in my car. I forgot about her. She was in there… waiting for me. And because I forgot about her, and her feelings,  I wound up breaking her heart, beyond repair.

If I continue to get physical, while forgetting about her feelings, I could really break her heart. I need to stop, and evaluate. But you know what’s the creepiest part about that dream? I translated the song. It’s a real song, by Pink Martini. The song is called One Night in Naples. Here’s one of the verses in English:

” But when he broke my heart,
And Abandoned me in the sky,
I fell back to earth,
And swore I’d never love again… “

I‘m calling her right now…

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A woman’s emotional needs are more

important that your sexual wants.

Do you like to fuck, or make love?

To be honest, she wasn’t a unique, or special girl. As a matter of fact, she was actually kind of boring. Aside from her C-cup breasts (that I didn’t care for) nothing stood out. Yea, she was sweet girl, but nowadays, who isn’t? But somehow…when she turned to me in the pale moonlight and asked me “Wanna make out?” I still said, “sure.”

After an hour of deep kissing, I laid back in the passenger seat, and looked out the side of the window, towards the sky. She was on top of me, kissing my neck – which was disrupting my state of contemplation. So I pressed the side of her face against my chest, and began stroking her hair. I didn’t kiss her. She didn’t kiss me. I just held onto her. I felt…sorry for her.

She glanced up at me, with glossy eyes, and just stared. I asked her “What’s wrong?” Her head slowly pillowed against my chest as she sighed and said “Nothing..” I knew she was lying – I could feel a sliver of pain underneath a blanket of happiness. “No really, what’s wrong?”

Her: Nothing…It’s just that… no one has ever done that to me.
Me: Done what?
Her: Held me, like that
Me: Well…what do they normally do?
Her: Ranier, I’ve been with a lot of guys before. Usually, we would kiss, make out, and then… fuck.
Me: Did you not want it?
Her: No no, I did. The thing is.. after making out..the guys I went out with just wanted to fuck. They were fucking me.
Me: Hmm…
Her: Ranier?… When you make love to someone… what is it like?

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Sometimes it truly upsets me that guys are still like that. When I hear of those stories, I feel like a scientist looking into a glass box filled with wild monkeys. So how can that be? How can some guys be so selfish? Contrary to popular belief, not all girls want to be ravaged and fucked like rag dolls. Real sex isn’t like your standard porno.

When it comes to gossip, I live in my own Oasis, away from all the drama. The “who fucked who” conversation isn’t a topic I engage in quite often. Being that I am so out of the loop, I like to believe that men nowadays are civil, and caring. I mean come on, hit it and quit it?! I thought that shit was like… five years old?! Who does that?!

Today, sex has deviated into something totally different. Nowadays, It’s not about pleasure anymore. It’s not about her pleasure, and it’s not even about his. It’s all about his ego. Guys don’t want big dicks so they can please their lover, they want big dicks so they can feel more powerful. They want to feel like men so they can go back to their friends and brag about how much he made her bleed.

According to my Sociology class, most men and women believe that Sex is finished when the man orgasms. This means one thing: sex is focused around the pleasures of the man - not the woman.

Has it ever occurred to you that while you’re riding your bitch’s back, she could very well be facing the other way, in tears? Guys fuck girls, girls don’t fuck guys. They call it penetration for a reason. But are you penetrating into her emotions? Are you stealing her dignity and self worth? Stripping away that which makes her a Woman?

Yea, I guess this blog sounds a bit silly, maybe even stupid. I’m sure there are some girls out there who are saying in their head “Jesus Christ! This guy’s a PUSSY!” Although, I could care less. But for those of you out there who don’t feel this way, for those of you that have been treated like a rag doll and were not taken care of, this is for you. We aren’t all like that…I hope.

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To some women…

Sex is much more than just fucking.