Written from bed on Sunday morning . . .
In retrospect, it was only a matter of time until I ended up with SD, the software developer I hang out with all the time.
Last night, as we — rather drunkenly — made out, we said to each other “I always have the best time with you!”
So, waking up in his arms this morning was probably inevitable.
We are in the awkward post part now where we are both killing time before the next thing we need to do, which is brunch.
Written later that night . . .
SD and I have been going out together for months, always as friends.
I have had a crush on him since we attended a music festival together a few weeks ago. We joked about the time when he told me he couldn’t date me because I’d dated PR, which he denied ever saying, and I mentioned that I am much more fun than he thinks.
That whole weekend definitely started to change things, but I never thought that much about it, as he has a crush on my girlfriend C and myriad other reasons. Instead, he’s my nonsexual boyfriend, escorting me to stuff. We hang out at least once a week, often much more. We have gone out to dinner frequently, out for drinks even more frequently, and we often end up hanging out together as we have become really great friends. I even threw his birthday party, which he said was his best party ever.
Saturday night, I was on the guest list for an important music show. I knew PR and our friends would be there, so I wanted to bring a non-date date, which would be a girlfriend or SD, and I really wanted SD to be there. He is really fun and we always have a blast. He confirmed in the afternoon that he was in, despite being up until all hours with an after party at his downtown condo.
He often has after parties at his place, as he’s downtown, with a fully stocked bar.
I agreed to meet him at a dive bar with amazing food. I screwed around and missed my bus, so I cabbed downtown after he shot me a text in all caps. I decided at that moment to throw all caution to the wind.
He was playing pool with his friend, who’d been with us at the festival for a day. I just watched them play, amused by how competitive SD is. I teased him and he reminded me I’d only known him for a year and he was not only competitive, but he also loved to play dirty.
I passed on the first round of drinks, but decided to start drinking the same awful cheap champagne of beers SD was drinking after my food came. Eventually, FM joins us, as he’s bored downtown. He’s in costume, and we tease him mercilessly.
I get a text from my guy who has me on the list +1 for this sold out show that it’s going to be packed, so we head over about 30 minutes before the opening act. PR, his bandmate and bm’s girlfriend are already there in the venue side.
SD decides that we should switch to fancy cocktails, so I get a crafted margarita and he gets an old-fashioned and then we join our people. I hug the girlfriend, then the bandmate and then PR. I join PR a person away from SD and I bounce between the two of them all night.
They make fun of us for drinking fancy cocktails, as they are drinking cans of high life.
We switch from cocktail to beer rather early, in tall cans no less. There is never a moment when the 5 of us are not drinking. At various points, SD wanders back to the bar for more drinks or to chat up random women. He knows I am safe, as I am with our crew. I think I am making it clear to PR that SD and I are just friends. PR watches everything carefully and SD and I joke with PR about some girl SD is chatting up at the bar. The whole point of being there with SD, instead of BV or anyone with whom I have gone out on dates is to ensure I don’t destabilize the delicate dance I do with PR.
The show is somewhat of a disaster — the crowd turns against the artist and we are all bored. I type notes to SD and PR that I show to them rather than send as texts.
Ultimately, though we are having a great time together, the music just gets to us (depressing, melancholy) and SD and I decide to hit a club the other 3 will not go to. But SD’s friend is the dj, so we go.
That party was amazing.
We get cocktails and it’s now 1230 or so and i’ve been out since 7. FM joins us here again, but we know we are not staying long. We are there for maybe an hour before we leave. SD is super-drunk and I decide that I am going to help him get home and get pizza. I invite FM to come with us, as SD’s is close and our weekly after-party spot.
I didn’t have any other plans. I must have sensed a vibe between us by this point because I didn’t intend to go home. Now, I have spent the night at SD’s place before on the sofa and it’s not a big deal.
We start walking and we are getting a little cuddly. We stop as we are walking and he high fives me and then hugs me and says “we always have the best time together.” and we do.
And then, standing in front of an historic theater in the middle of downtown, we are kissing.
It’s cold out and we are only a couple of blocks from his building’s back entrance. He leads me down a hallway to the back elevator bank and he can’t find his keys, as they are in his pocket.
Yeah, we are drunk and he is drunker still.
I grab his keys, get us up to his floor and we eventually find his unit, which was actually made difficult because I never go through that back entrance.
Inside, we shed coats and shoes in the foyer and head straight to bed. Because we’ve been drinking, we just end up making out for a while and then falling asleep. He does tell me several times that I am gorgeous, which is always an awesome thing to hear.
It’s a little weird to end up in bed with your friend because you’re friends. I sleep surprisingly soundly, amused that SD is such a sleep cuddler, although not nearly as bad as BV. Still, I am sleeping in my friend’s arms, which makes me giggle a little. I awake hours before he does and I am so dehydrated I am afraid to drink water. I plug my phone in, as both of us managed to carry our phones to our respective nightstands, and neither plugged them in.
When he finally wakes up fully around 1030, he pulls me close and I have my head against his chest. It’s so comfortable to lie there listening to his heart beating. In many ways, this feels perfectly normal and yet I know there are enormous chasms to negotiate as this was all rather unexpected.
Of course, as we are cuddled up in bed, we eventually start to have sex. At this point, I have been celibate for a while. I think it’s been nearly a month since I was with the friend of a friend. For him, I think it had been the night before. We don’t actually finish having sex though. It’s great and comfortable and somewhat lazy, and I ask him a relevant question and all of a sudden, he’s incapable of soldiering on. I laugh and say to him, “I suppose I should have asked you something less thinky.” It’s really not a big deal, and we snuggle back together a few more times until we finally need to get up to get food. It’s now close to noon.
We have realized that he’s still intoxicated from the night before and I am not entirely steady either although my metabolism works way quicker than his. We have a specific brunch craving, which can best be sated at a place on the opposite side of downtown from him. He thinks briefly about driving, which I quickly, quash, and I suggest we either walk or cab. As he lives within two blocks from three luxury hotels, cabs are very easy to find.
The cab is the nicest I’ve been in. It’s a minivan cab with a jump seat and automatic doors. I climb in and SD sits down in the jump seat before moving back. The cab driver is playing classical music and the disconnection between our last 17 hours and this moment is so significant we both laugh, and tell him how much we love the cab and the music.
We have a 30 minute wait at the restaurant, which is a weird scene: it’s part upscale neighborhood (LP lives 3 blocks away) but mostly hipster. The chef was on top chef briefly and the food is really top notch. We stand at the bar and he orders beer and I get a mimosa. Which then turns into rounds of each before we ever sit down.
I think that I am perfectly okay, but I do end up knocking over my drink with an errant gesture, so maybe I am not.
My food: excellent frittata with gruyere and caramelized onions. His: chicken and waffles with cinnamon butter. It’s amazing. We are in date mode here, telling family stories and filling in narrative gaps. We’re also watching football and trying to decide if we want to go harass FM who is watching the game in this neighborhood or wander elsewhere. We’re also trying to decide just how long we want to continue hanging out with each other without making it terribly obvious. Fortunately, we each have parties to attend, mine is an art opening at 5, his is a dinner at 6.
We leave the restaurant and we look for a car to pick up through the car-sharing program we all belong to. We are unable to find one available, so I suggest we grab a drink at the place where I’d originally met BV and where we went late on SD’s birthday. They have games on big tvs and they have giant jenga outside. I pick up this round of drinks, as I’d not picked up a check since I bought my own burger the night before. We end up playing against a group of people — and winning, of course — and then we chat with a software guy. I connect them business-wise, by mentioning that SD is an expert in whatever, and SD tells him, well, actually, I wrote . . . and here I have no idea what he’s talking about. What I do know is that whatever SD wrote in 2000 is now a standard used in something important to each of them and software guy is trying to hire SD to work with them to fix what’s broken in their system. It’s one of those random things that happen in our town when you’re friends with badass people who do great work.
(And now that I think about it, he told me over brunch that he is getting a $40k bonus from a company that loved what he did so much, they gave him some equity. He’s paying something off, and deciding that he wants to drop 10k on a watch, which I fully support.)
We must have grabbed a cab, as I don’t remember walking. We end up back at his place, sitting on the sofa, watching football and listening to music. We are drinking some extremely fancy craft beer out of a bottle we’re sharing and we’re in this weird mode of both hyper-awareness that this is bizarre and completely comfortable just hanging out together. Eventually, I end up with my head against his chest and his arm wrapped around me as we’re talking. We are playing each other our favorite songs from our phones, that then show up on his amazing sound system. Only with him would I be geeking out over hip hop and old stories.
I joke at one point that we should finish what we’d started earlier, but we know we will likely have the same issues.
Also, there doesn’t seem to be any rush to do anything or any need to talk about the fact that I am curled up with one of my close friends.
It’s all super comfortable until I realize it’s time to go to make it to my next party. I fix my makeup, throw my shoes on, and I hug him goodbye. I thought about kissing him, but the whole thing is a little uncomfortable. He says to me, hey, thanks for inviting me last night, and I laugh and say, hey, thanks for brunch today.
SD is an inveterate playboy. He sleeps with a lot of different women. He’s actually worse than PR in that respect. I do not know that he’s ever really had a girlfriend — though he’s been in love twice and one of the women I know.
SD and I have been hanging out so much and so consistently that I felt perfectly comfortable with him. What any of it means from here . . . who knows.
My suspicion is that I will probably end up sleeping with him from time to time. I am already going out with him regularly and the move to a more intimate friendship makes sense. Also, it gives me a safe place to crash downtown if I really need one.
I already had a place to crash downtown, as I’ve done it before.
The move from platonic to non-platonic is complicated. He knows about my relationship with BV, as he’s spent time with us and he’s had to hear me whine about it. He is not aware of my former relationship with FM, although he might suspect. I know about his relationships with other women. He knows I am actively dating.
I am very good at balancing friendships and negotiating the complicated we’re sort of dating and sort of not dating. SD and I have been going out on dates for a while by any standard measure. I don’t think either of us thought about it that way no matter how many checks he’s picked up or drinks he’s presented me with. I have been his wing man in negotiating things with women and just last night, we were discussing the woman he’d been with the night before.
My preference, as always, is to pick friendship over anything else. I’d much rather be friends with someone than risk a relationship. I’ll do the same thing with SD. The fact that we’re remarkably well-suited and excellent friends does not much matter.
The fact that we ended up kissing on the street, and then in bed together, is not something either of us planned. In fact, we were completely unprepared for it. I didn’t even have the charger for my phone.
We laughed this morning about it, as a matter of fact, that this was the last thing we expected to happen.
Except . . .
It was rather inevitable.
RA texted me earlier as I was sprawled across SD and I told her I’d not yet been home. When I told her it was SD, she laughed and agreed it was only a matter of time. That’s the same thing the my girlfriend TB said.
It has obvious to everyone else that this was going to happen. Everyone but us.
I should embrace the fact that my crushes are never in a vacuum. The men I like also like me.
I have no idea what, if anything will happen from here. If I am being honest, I will likely end up spending the night with him again, possibly regularly. Among the reasons we didn’t end up attempting sex again is that it didn’t feel like the end. It didn’t feel like the beginning either. It just felt normal.
When I spent the night at PR’s for the first time, I was rather convinced I’d never see him again, but that never happens. They are never just one-night stands. Ever. (Which is actually sort of weird.) It won’t be that way with SD either. But it’s also not a new relationship. He’s not a relationship guy.
C is going to be pissed when/if she finds out. She views SD as her safety and she is one of those women on whose self worth rests the ardor of men. The reality doesn’t matter. He mentioned to me that at one point, they were hanging out a couple of weeks ago, he thought they were going to hook up and then she spilled red wine all over his sofa and passed out. I laughed and said she’s thrown up red wine on me, my sofa, and the dog.
Were BV and I to reconcile at some point, SD would be cool hanging out with us. SD is cool doing anything.
SD lives his life to have fun. And he has a lot of fun all the time.
I have no idea if we will spend time together as we did on Saturday and Sunday, 24 hours of low-stress quality time. I hope that we do because it’s fun to curl up with someone on the sofa, sharing stories (my former career that made me a huge success . . . it’s something he finds even cooler than most people), etc. Over brunch, we talked about visiting the Chef’s restaurant, which he’s never been to. (Anyone who knows I know the Chef wants to go with me because it’s even more awesome.)
Given our lives, we will continue to end up at stuff together two or three times a week. And every couple of weeks or so, I will likely stay at his place. It’s sort of inevitable. It’s as inevitable as our continuing to date other people.
If it goes the way it might, it’s probably going to make some of our friends uncomfortable. They’ll not understand that we can sleep nakedly wrapped around each other all night and just be friends.
But we can be. At least, we can be for now.
SD and I will successfully deal with what happened this weekend. Likely, we will begin seeing each other from time to time. We will always know it will be a possibility.
The only real weirdness will be from everyone else, but given the reactions from RA and TB, I am convinced that they’ve all suspected it was a possibility if not completely inevitable.