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If you have sex with someone on their birthday, do they become eternally enamoured with you? If this is true, I wish that someone had warned me.

So this story goes back a while. Birthday Sex Boy (BSB for ease in the rest of this entry) and I go back a few years now. We first met on the stairs on our way to an undergrad biochemistry lecture. Of course back then I had a boyfriend, he had a girlfriend and I never would have guessed there to be any sort of biochemistry between us except the lecture he asked me if I was attending.

After I broke up with the ex, BSB was the supportive friend. He made me lunch, watched movies with me, and took me to the beach (So Olivia and Addison have made it known that boys only take you to the beach when they are interested in you. But I swear I had no idea!).

So then the night before his birthday, we had plans to go out for dessert. Yes, yes at this point I realised that he was interested. I ignored the afternoon walks on the beach, and the movies, and the lunch; however, Friday night is date night and even I had finally clicked onto what was going on. But I was starting to think I’d give him a chance, he was a good guy and a decent friend. We didn’t get dessert. Instead I received a drunken text message about how the boys at work had dragged him off for pre-birthday drinks, and he was too drunk to see me.

Later on in the evening he asked if he could come crash at my place, because he was too drunk to get home. This didn’t seem totally unreasonable as I live in the center of town, and he lives a good half hour drive from town. So I agreed. Being the good friend I fetched him a big glass of water and some toast; we sat on my bedroom floor and saw his birthday in. Then we had sex.

In the morning we had sex a a few more times. Then came the awkward moment of realization. BSB is lovely, really genuinely lovely, but I’d just never thought of him that way. I didn’t even really enjoy the sex that much. I enjoyed it in the sense that it was sex. Sex with a nice caring guy. But I’m just not into him. I think I probably only slept with him because it had been six months since I’d had sex. The last time was with the ex and, well, I just wanted to get out there again. Basically I was not into him enough to make sex a regular occurrence. Or perhaps his performance wasn’t enough to convince me that it should be a regular occurrence.

I grabbed my discarded t-shirt and underwear. Pulling it on we had the “the talk”. You know the one, where one or both parties explain how they aren’t looking for a relationship. In this case it was me “I’m just not in that place right now. I’m really trying to focus on me at the moment. Since breaking up with the ex, I’ve just needed time to find myself”. Except this talk was followed by an awkward overly cheery “Happy Birthday!”.

I like to imagine that his reaction to the whole thing was “BEST. BIRTHDAY. PRESENT. EVER”

More than a couple of months have gone by, and we’re not even living in the same continent anymore. He insists that he’s not interested in being anything more than my friend. However, every time BSB gets drunk he seems to end up texting me. There was the time we ran into each other in a bar (while I was being bought a drink by another man. Opps!), that resulted in him sending me several messages about how beautiful and amazing I am. Last night I received this message on facebook “I’m drunk. I should go to bed. But I wish that you were here with me instead”. All of these instances are followed by an apology “I was drunk. Wasn’t me. Sorry. We really are just friends”. Well in my book if you want something when your drunk, you probably want it when your sober (The girls and I have dubbed this the “Ok-box”).

He recently offered to fly me to his new country of residence!

As Olivia said in her last post “The sea” is really more like a small-medium-sized pond): should I be “learning to be more satisfied with the things that I am able to catch?”

-Lillian

Note: Something I discussed at great length with The Flying Englishman* is the way that people always want what they don’t have. If someone likes you enough, chances are you’ll want them. If someone is crazy about you, you probably wont want them. It’s so counter productive. Should I just be going for the guys that want me, even if I don’t particularly want them?

*We’re saving the story of the Lost Weekend: the Sexy Brit, the Spitty Brit, the Flying Englighman, and the Other American. But we’ll fill you in soon.

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