Getting what I want or considering what he needs
We meet as we have any other day, I've known him for five years and we have been nothing but friends. In University we shared a bed one night after a very drunken evening celebrating his birthday, I knew him but not well. My best friend had dated his best friend for years, so as she ventured into her x-boyfriend's room, he offered me his. 'Richard' was very sweet and obviously shy beneath it all, so I slept there and to my surprise, had one of the best nights sleeps I'd had in weeks (halls were not the best place for a good nights rest). So after that we became 'sleeping buddies', one of the only men I had met at University that I could actually sleep next too, every other man would have me up and out by 7am in my haste to get away. I had an idea he fancied me a while after we met and one drunken evening I received a text from him asking if anything was ever going to happen between us, I told him we were friends and our friendship resumed unquestioned. Five years and countless meet ups later we met again in the Northern Quarter for a night of bar hopping and drunken debautery. It started out as normal, I told him about the latest wanker I was dating, he told me about his sporting activities and recent knee injury. Three bars later and I was starting to feel the numerous cocktails I had devoured a little more than him, so we moved on to the Black Dog Ballroom so he could play catch up. Two pool games and six Jagerbombs later and a flirty banter was creeping into our drunken interaction, then the moment occurred. I looked up just as he looked down and for a second we locked eyes and forget all conversation, he looked different and for a second I wondered what this meant. Then, before I could process the moment, he looked away and headed off for last orders. A moment of confusion and questions, 'did we just have a moment?', we had, and when he returned from the bar with two Jagerbombs I lead him to a corner booth to sit and possibly, resume. We clinked and downed, then he looked at me as I relished the last drops of my dutch courage. I looked up as he moved closer and then before I could feel a single butterfly, he finally after five years, kissed me. And that was it, locked in that position for the next twenty minutes till I finally ask the question he later told me he'd waited to hear, "do you want to go home?". We headed out for a taxi and in the back seat of a hackney carriage he found a new sense of confidence I'd never seen before, amazing. He may be shy and awkward in the light of day, but he certainly wasn't in dim light of that taxi ride to my quaint student house, and he didn't disappoint. After months of washing machine kisses and two second flourishes, I was finally able to enjoy myself in a way I hadn't experienced since my last meeting seven months before with 'Henry". How had I not known about this boy that had been there for five years and countless dates?
Now our second meet up looms and with the knowledge of what would normally be expected to happen, I have to stand back and ask, 'is it ok to get with this boy who may possibly be far more emotionally involved than I could ever be?' I do not believe in lying to nice people or leading them astray, I love Henry and for a long time more I shall still love Henry, I cannot get emotional envolved with someone new untill I can say I am at least partly over Henry. Men have often told me that "our affair is nothing more than fun" and they can't commit, I have of course said I feel the exact same way, till I don't. Can I be a man and allow this fling to progress when I know that the words "I don't care either", mean nothing three months in? So I will ask him up front what his feeling on the matter are (a courtesy never extended to me by any man) and whilst I may be hoping to arrange a friends with benefits deal, I will only do so if I truely believe no harm will be done six months down the line when I leave for London never to return.
So heres to hoping, every women has her needs