“We’re on the right side of rock bottom Into you, I just keep crawling You’re the best kind of bad something ‘Cause we keep on coming back for more”

Undeclared. We state this major in college when we don’t know what we want to be when we grow up. I think by a third date or hookup we should have a checklist that pretty much answers “what are we doing?” that we hand to our partner.  KJ and I decided that we are just considered “untitled”.

Untitled can be confusing. It’s that place where you’re not committed, yet you are a little bit more than just fuck buddies.  KJ and I have this: We’ve both agreed not to fuck other people (but seriously, his dick is inside me so much at this point, we don’t have energy or time to find someone else to fuck).  We will not say that we are together, because we are both flirts (actually do it in front of each other just to piss the other one off all the time. Healthy huh?). We talk about not future.  We hang out five nights out of seven (not just sex, like we eat or play pool or have drinks).  He’s always the first to say he’s sorry. At work, I get quick hugs from behind and forehead kisses.

Yet, he’s got too many demons he’s fighting for me to fall for him. As a mutual friend said, “Ellie, I think you’re good for him but I also think he’s terrible for you.”  When I have to step back and remind myself of this, he accuses me of being defensive and weird and distant.  See, my best friend died of drug use two years ago. Mentally, I examined on how I felt about KJ and wondered if I’m trying to save him because I couldn’t save her. But as my niece says “You can’t go around playing Captain Save a Ho'”

There’s no way I should be trying to fix him.  The addictions are always going to come in front of me.   But I’ve felt so broken after CS and online dating, that I like being the strong one. And the fact that each time I think I’ve had the best sex I’ve ever had in my life happens, we top it.

For example, who knew that  a three minute orgasm would be possible? I think I literally blacked out with his head between my legs last night, which happened with the car door open because we couldn’t wait to walk the five steps to his front door.  As KJ said last night, I don’t think either of us have ever experienced such chemistry with someone else. The thing is, he says I’m a distraction everywhere: during shifts we work together, when he’s playing pool and he can still see me from across the bar.

What do you do when you are truly undeclared?  When you have 9 and a Half Weeks type of sex and a Jerry Springer kind of (non) love and a When Harry Met Sally kind of friendship?

“We’re like fire and gasoline…I’m no good for you, you’re no good for me…”

 

Unless you’ve ever experienced the kind of chemistry CS and I  had, it’s hard to describe. We were never able to keep our hands off each other, even in public. Our first date, we ended up in the same booth at a restaurant, with his hand down my pants, and he almost gave me my first public orgasm. On our third date, CS and I both took a Friday off. We went to a local brewery and spent about eight hours drinking beer.   At the end of the night, we were approached by the owner who told us “If you don’t tone it down, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You guys are being lewd.”   This week, I had a couple come into the bar/restaurant where I work. This couple sat at the bar for six hours and told me that this was in the middle of where they lived, and they could not visit each others houses.  Exact same situation. By the end of the night, she was straddling him on the bar chair.  Since there were no kids near, I smiled and told the manager to just let it go.  Because I get it. And my body is craving that chemistry. And witnessing that situation, made the hurt come back just a little. I didn’t cry. But I did proceed to go out and do fireball shots with my new bar peeps to numb the ache of the scar that’s just beginning to heal.

When fire and gasoline meet, the chemistry of both components skip the spark stage all together and move straight toward an explosion. It’s hot, it’s dangerous, and it burns out quickly.  And then what’s left is embers that still smolder. CS was the gasoline, I was the fire.  He burned through me and moved on.  But I’d still give anything to feel him inside me one last time. (break up sex anyone?).  I don’t even like him as a person anymore.  But I’m craving that pure, physical chemistry.

My advice to the couple at the bar would be to slow it down.  Spend a day with no alcohol and just having fun with each other.  Don’t do anything  but kiss.  Because when you ignite too fast, you burn the entire house down.