The phone rang around 1am Friday night. He was drunk and from the sound of it, still in a club. “Can I come over?” that’s all he asked. No pleasantries, no catching up, he didn’t even confirm if I was in the house, all he wanted was to come over. I refused. I made the excuse of an early morning and loads of works but he was insistent. I lied that it would be impossible to get to my place that late. He gave in, made some kind of groan and said fine right after suggesting Sunday afternoon, which I promised to confirm.
Honestly, I was kind of getting tired of our hook-ups. They normally felt one sided much as I always called the shots. More like the shot of when it’d happen. Ben didn’t mind. Don’t get me wrong, I was getting the satisfaction but something was missing and I guess the missing part was what I actually wanted all along. The idea of no strings attached made sense but now I know that’s not humanly possible. They will always be there. The benefits are ‘supposed’ to be purely physical, but when you feel dirty afterwards, trust me, it’s not worth it. At first it was exciting, just the idea itself. Started with all the signs of an infant courtship till he dropped the bomb. ‘I really like you but can’t be with you’. Then he suggested a no strings attached kind of relationship. I had never thought of being in one so I decided to give it a try. I was tired of being single after all and much as it wasn’t exactly a relationship, it sounded better.
When we started, it was often maybe once a week. Then that changed after a while the gap between each meet became longer and I didn’t even notice. Then he started pushing it. Calling once in a while, texts almost on a daily and whatsapp photos too. He tried to engage me in sexting but with so much to do, it was so easy to get sidetracked. Early mornings, late nights and with a kid to take care of, who has time for sexting. Then it was once a month, one afternoon. No one had to do anything, I didn’t have to cook and he didn’t have to bring anything. I only had to make sure the kid was out of the house. We’d finish our business, take a shower together and I’d escort him to the stage. Simple, right?
However, after he’d left I’d feel dirty. Start thinking about his wife who I found out he had after two months into this casual thing. Guess that is what inspired the lack of enthusiasm. Ask myself questions trying to find out what was wrong with me. Wondering if I was just crazy for hooking up with another woman’s man. Or console myself, some had it worse.
Sunday afternoon, he was there. I wasn’t really in the mood but soon as he got through the door he grabbed me and our lips met. I loved his kisses, but this particular day he seemed hungered. Took me in like it was his last time. Which it was, at least with me. As it steamed up I just kept thinking, ‘this needs to stop’. I felt like a whore and at that moment I shed tears for my disturbed soul. On top of him, but worlds apart. He was having fun and I was crying. He didn’t even notice. So much for benefits.