- In the morning, I am going to leave anyways. It will probably be while you are still asleep. I will hop around the room trying to avoid the creaky floorboards while I fish my underwear out from under your desk. I will see your mess in the daylight, and hope that you stay in your peaceful, nonobligatory slumber.
- You do not want to hold me after we have sex; you just know that is what a Nice Boy does. You honestly probably don’t (or didn’t) want me to stay the night, but being the gentleman that you are could not let me stumble home drunkenly in the middle of the night. I am not going to let you hold me after sex because I get it: I am a burden. I am not going to let you hold me after sex because I would rather commit murder than being labeled as “clingy.”
- I probably do not know your last name. Cuddling is one of the most intimate activities two people can partake in. It has developed in our society to be more sacred than sex, and I am not going to do it with you because I met you four hours ago after six gin and tonics and refuse to pretend that this is something that it is not.
- Things will be even weirder when I see you at that next party, whether it is tomorrow, next week, or next month. We will give each other a nod from across the room, maybe a little smile, and go about our business. I am not going to let you hold me because I do not need one more stranger who knows every crevice of my body. Or who thinks they know a thing or two about me. Because, well, you don’t. (And it is my prerogative to make that clear to everyone I sleep with.)
- Most of all, if I let you hold me after we have sex, there is a very good possibility I will enjoy it. My body will perfectly curve with yours and I’ll feel the warmth of your skin touching mine inch by inch. It is almost certain that this will not turn me on, and that makes it all the worse. I am not going to let you hold me after we have sex because if you do, there’s a chance that for a moment I will see everything I am missing.
- I am not going to let you hold me after sex because I cannot bear the emptiness of it. The reality of the fact we are nothing, and this is the life I chose.