We Were Friends With Benefits — But Sex Was Not The Benefit

For me, the sex was not the benefit. The benefits were our in-between moments when it seemed like our relationship was about more than the physical. It was when a genuine compliment would slip through the cracks. It was when you would look me directly in my eyes — and for just a split second, I could tell you liked me. Not my body. Not what my body could do to yours. Me, as a person. You liked me.

The benefit was our growing friendship. It was knowing you were only a text message away. It was creating inside jokes with you. It was learning small, secret things about you. Yes, you set firm boundaries about how we should act around each other in order to avoid blurring the lines, but you broke your own rules without realizing it. You hugged me for a little too long. You texted back a little too fast. You gave me compliments that were a little too personal. There were multiple times when you extended our stays, when you cuddled me even though it was time for me to leave, when you looked me in the eyes like you were falling in love with me.

The benefit was the opportunity to spend time with you alone, just the two of us, with no one around to bother or distract us. I liked being the only person in the room with you. I liked listening to your stories and watching you listen to mine. I liked the chance to get to know you better. I liked having your complete attention. Yes, our nights together always led to something else, but the sex was bookended by conversation. We had fun together beforehand and we had fun afterwards. I never slept with you and left without a word. We did more than that. We spent hours upon hours together.

I was never in a friends with benefits relationship for the sex. I agreed to the arrangement because I wanted to spend more time with you. I wanted to get to know you better. I wanted permission to press my lips against yours. I wanted to get a taste of what it would be like to be your official girlfriend. I wanted to be able to call you mine, even if it was a temporary thing, even if it was a casual thing.

Now that our relationship has ended, I have been trying to get over you by badmouthing you. I have been trying to convince myself you only wanted me for my body. I have been trying to remind myself you only cared about the sex. But, deep down, I know that is a lie. Our relationship meant so much more than sex to me — and it clearly meant more to you too.

Even if you never decide to date me, even if you never speak to me again, I know for a fact our relationship was meaningful to the two of us. I know our time together made an impact on us both.