Others dismiss fuck-buddy dynamics as just being compulsive sex that’s devoid of emotion. Surely it’s possible to find a middle ground between eternal love and zombie-fucking a stranger: a place where you can care about someone, have good sex, and yet not want to literally implode at the thought of them sleeping with someone else. Case in point: The most significant romantic friendship of my life was with an ex-editor of mine, whom I’ll call Malcolm.
We started “a thing” five years ago and have yet to end it.
It started when she was 13, with a boy whose family spent every summer in the same beach town as she did.
(Cute alert.)Over martinis at Cafe Mogador, Casey told me, “When I’m dating someone, my immediate impulse is to be like, ‘Let’s lock shit down!
She doesn’t know that loving you is the worst way to get to you.” Harsh.
Sometimes it feels like we are more honest with our friends with benefits than we are with our partners.
This paradox always makes me think of that episode when Betty seduced Don at their kid’s summer camp, well after they had both remarried.
Unsurprisingly, it was literally awful, but now at least I can say I’ve done it?
)One of the most masterful fuck friends I know is my friend Casey, a 26-year-old Ph. candidate in English, who until recently had a FWB for .