Friends with benefits.
I’m not sure when and where this concept originated in the dating and relationship dictionary, but I can tell you this. I want to smack the shit out of it.
Someone and I are friends. But even that is a grey area. Here’s why – I’m of the firm belief that friends do more than just follow facebook and twitter updates and comment on said updates and send smses when in dire need of a conversation or otherwise. However, even if that basic form of real-time interaction is not happening, what will you call the relationship? I’m all for grey areas, purely because they give me all this material to blog about. But seriously, when there is a non-romantic relationship to be defined, why in the hell is it so difficult to just give it a name?
Apparently, the story goes that men and women, in any relationship, except filial, have a hard time of defining their relationships with each other. Why? Because of all that sex that comes in the way I’m told. Uh, seriously? I live in India; people here don’t have sex, except in their bedrooms and on the murals of Khajuraho. Even if we do have sex, we’re probably a couple of flowers suggestively shaking on the 70mm screen or worse, some skanky reperesentation of seduction gyrating to all kinds of music and making eyes at someone with her fake eyelashes. That’s sex in our country. It’s mostly cheap. It’s mostly non-existent.
Looping back to the subject at hand…
In the early 2000s, I discovered this FWB stupidfuckofaconcept. At the time, I thought I was being rather progressive by being OK with it. I even thought I was the kind of girl who could handle this so-called uncomplicated relationship with ease. Erm, ok. Thing is, I’ve either met the biggest jerks in town or I’ve been stupid to think there is more to all that senti talk I get before things proceed in an altogether different direction. I’m going to go with stupid. As the first decade of the 21st century is coming to a close, I’m realising that time has only made me loathe the relationship grey areas more and more.
So as to this friends thing. I find it hard for people to call you their friend and expect benefits when there is not f of the effing friendship to begin with, how will you cross that and get to the benefits? However much you would like to think that benefits are just benefits, they are the result of something. There needs to be a reason for said benefits. If there is no reason, no just cause, what can possibly be expected?
That question beats all. But this is where true talent lies. If you’re good with this craft of getting people to go with your scheme of things, any and all arguments in this post can be refuted and I will turn into a believer. That’s the fuckup. Assholes the world over are getting free hooker-type sex from friends by creating a relationship called FWB.
I wonder which of these women have seen the light and are a) clubbing the skulls of concerned morons and b) just breaking up with these friends.
I do not have the spine to bring this topic of discussion up and put a stop to the colourful proceedings. I think I should. Not for anything else, just so I have one less thing to worry about…
Rife as it is with nothingness, my graph of my daily existence sometimes peaks with such lovelies. I wonder what I’ll do when it stops?