Phone a fuckbuddy
In a few days, I’m going to Cuba on vacation with a guy I’ve been sleeping with for eight years, but whom I've never once called my boyfriend.We live on different continents, but inevitably, a few times a year, we find each other somewhere in the world, have a few days of romance, and then go our separate ways.Enter your mobile number or email address below and we'll send you a link to download the free Kindle App.Then you can start reading Kindle books on your smartphone, tablet, or computer - no Kindle device required.
But after recently seeing another FWB situation fall apart that involved another friend of mine, where I had reassured her that it is possible to enjoy the company and the penis of a man without actually wanting more from him, I’m starting to think my male acquaintance is right and, like Sway, I ain’t got the answers. We would sink to a new low, exchange some hateful verbal vomit, I would die a small death, suffer a small depression, come to some amount of forced peace within 24 hours and feel terrible for the hateful verbal vomit, text an apology for the hateful verbal vomit, wish him a beautiful life and "love and light, ! I scrubbed every inch of me, as if the layers of skin were somehow carrying layers of my past relationships. And then I pulled the drain on the tub and I let every last bit of everything swirl down the drain. As if their energy were now leaving my orb, and going back to the earth. And then I put on fancy underwear, some Alicia Keyes, and I blew out my hair. Some hours later that Friday, after that bath, the one man I care about, the one who's been on the periphery the entire time, the one who is kind and calm and patient and empathic, called me out of the blue. Instead of praying for what you think you need, pray for the best possible outcome, and pray for the clarity to see the best outcome. Each time I walked away, I was sure I had finally broken the cycle. Every contact, every picture, every email, every text, every digital everything from every man ever. Then I drew a bath, dumped an ENTIRE bottle of frankincense oil in it, and poured about 3 pounds of epsom salts over my head, my body, my face. Not to make space for someone else to fill the void. The truth is, there is already a plan in place that is grander than our limited vision can see, and our small attachments to individual outcomes with specific people literally blinds us from the bigger plan in place.For over a year, I've been enmeshed in what I'd call a really long tortuous break-up from a relationship that never existed. We met, we swooned, we fucked, we fought, we ended. You can close the ceremony by chanting "Kali Durge Namo Namah" which calls on the deities Kali and Durga, who are goddesses known to protect you from evil and to help to powerfully remove and cut through what is no longer serving you.
And if I didn't do it right this time, if I just buried him in some explosive dramatic parting, even if he went away there would be another incarnation. When you are done, thank them, wish them well and send them love, and say goodbye. There were sweaters and t-shirts and earrings and hats and bags and dresses and THINGS. I felt like that woman I saw on TV once that had 50 cats in her apartment and didn't see what the problem was. I was living in a vigil to every past relationship. Fuck Buddy was just the most recent incarnation of it. You can yell if you need to (or scream), whatever it is you need to get out to them that you can't in real life without getting arrested or slapped with a restraining order.