From your side, it feels like freedom. You can text me at two in the morning without making plans ahead of time and use me for the only thing you care about. You get exactly what you want. You get to hook up without commitment. You get laid without a label.
Since we are technically only friends, you don’t have to worry about getting in trouble if you flirt with another girl you find attractive. You don’t have to worry about texting back quickly or planning romantic dates or putting in any effort outside of the bedroom.
You get to drink with me, joke around with me, and make out with me. And then you get to leave.
I can’t get upset when you give another girl the attention I want, because we are not dating. I can’t yell at you for going missing in action for days because you don’t owe me anything. I can’t act like you are an asshole who is hurting me more and more each day because I know what I signed up for in the first place.
From your side, being friends with benefits feels like the ideal relationship.
From my side, it feels like heartbreak. Even though you already told me your intentions, I keep praying for something more. I overanalyze the way you look at me, the words you say to me, the way you kiss me. I hold onto the hope that after spending so much time with me you will develop stronger feelings for me and decide we are better off dating than pretending nothing exists between us.
Every time you kiss me it hurts because I know it’s not going to last long. I know it’s only a matter of time before you roll out from bed and leave me behind until you need my company again.
I feel like you have been sending mixed signals lately, but maybe that’s because I’m only seeing what I want to see. I want to see you falling for me. I want to see you come to the realization that no other girl will make you as happy as I do.
Acting like you are just a friend has secretly been killing me inside, but I keep acting like a cool girl. I keep pretending I’m perfectly fine with keeping things casual. I keep lying to you — but it’s much harder to lie to myself.
There have been a million times when I considered ending our arrangement because of how much pain it has brought me, but I stopped myself each time because I would rather be your friend with benefits than some girl you no longer text. I would rather be someone you only see once a week than someone you forget exists.
From my side, being friends with benefits sucks. It’s a constant reminder that I am good enough to sleep with you, but not good enough to call your girlfriend. It’s my reminder that I can have you whenever I want you, but never in the way I want you.