It doesn’t bother me at all

November 22, Saturday, later that day

I made that date to go to church with C during the two weeks he was blowing me off. When I was determined to get over him. When I knew there was no chance.

And then last night happened.

And now I don’t know what to do. So I decide that the only logical course is to be honest. Even if it’s scary. Because I suspect he will tell me that he doesn’t care and to do whatever I want. Which, even if true, will hurt me a little. I want him to care. I want him to hate the idea of me going out with someone else. I don’t know where that comes from, but I’m trying to face all my emotions, not just the ones I like and understand.

So I bring it up and this is the conversation I get:

Him: For real, do whatever you want to do
Me: pft. I knew you’d say that. if I knew what I wanted to do, I wouldn’t have asked for a consult. lol
Him: If you were hooking up with someone else, I'd appreciate knowing about that before we would do anything like last night
Me: I don't sleep with multiple people.
Him: I know
Me: It pisses me off that you think you needed to say that
Him: Well, I feel like you would feel like you were betraying me or whatever if you went to church with a dude
Him: It doesn't bother me at all
Me: I don’t feel like I'm betraying you. You’ve been very clear that we have no commitment to each other. But since the lines feel very blurry, I just want to keep everything honest. Secrets destroy friendships and I’ll fight for ours. ok?
Him: definitely
Me: Thanks honey.

I was quite proud that I had managed to keep my composure. How dare he assume I’d sleep with anyone else! Is that really what he thinks of me? We’ve been friends for ages. He knows every single person I’ve had sex with. We’ve talked about them all. He knows I don’t just do that. Where the fuck did that come from?

And yes, the “it doesn’t bother me at all” just tore through me.
Fuck this. I hope C and I set things ON FUCKING FIRE tomorrow. God, I’ve become an evil bitch. I do not even recognize myself. Who am I? I do not like all these feels. I cannot control them, I don’t even understand them. What is wrong with me?

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.