You Can Turn Your One Night Stand Into A Relationship, But Maybe You Shouldn’t

It definitely wasn’t supposed to be serious. In fact, our relationship should not have gone beyond the first day – a trip to the mall, a bite to eat, and an uncomfortable, unpleasant make-out session that escalated into uncomfortable, unpleasant, not-quite-willing sex. Our “relationship” was toxic from the beginning and I hated the girl it turned me into for the duration. The details are ugly and personal, but the signs are the same. Our relationship should have been limited to a one-night stand if it happened at all (and it probably shouldn’t have).

Convenience is one of the only reasons we met.

I was a college kid, he lived close, I was lonely, he seemed cute. A tale as old as time, isn’t it? The loneliness is the key point, I think. There are people out there who prey on weakness, whether it’s temporary or long-standing. I was ripe for this guy’s particular brand of manipulative charm. In meeting him, I didn’t have to deal with my introverted shyness or my broken heart. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to hang out with someone local and forget my ex for at least a few hours. I never meant for it to be a one-night stand, though, let alone a full-blown relationship.

We had virtually nothing in common beyond our initial interests.

A few things are often enough to make someone worth getting to know. He and I had enough of those – I thought he was smart, clever, and open-minded. Turns out, his opening gambits were the sole sum of the things we had in common. From then on, his jokes were stolen cliches and his opinions were overpowering.

He quickly revealed an affinity for mooching.

Free meals, rides, trips… he tagged along on family vacations and went from relying on his bike and public transportation to requesting rides whenever he needed to go anywhere. I take full responsibility for allowing any of it, except to say that my family tends to be generous to a fault. If you give, some people will take until there’s nothing left. True fact.

All of my friends found him repugnant.

Every single one of them disliked him. The only thing I can say in my defense is that I only ever have a few friends at once and they met him over a length of time. Your friends are trustworthy, so when they have strong opinions about someone or something, they’re worth considering.

He found a way to insult everyone in my life.

My mom, my dad, my friends, my classmates, my professors, me – no one was immune. It took a while to happen in some cases, but it always happened. Sometimes, it was because he was clueless or tactless, sometimes it was because he lacked a filter, and sometimes it was because he was just an aggressively blunt jerk. It got to the point where I was always apologizing to people after they spent time with him.

I began actively starting fights to drive him away.

I’m good at this. I think a loud, passionate fight can clear the air sometimes. That was not the case here. Nineteen was probably one of my worst ages, but my flair for the dramatic and over-sensitivity had nothing to do with the fights I had with this guy. I reached a stage where I was purposely argumentative and hard to get along with just to drive him away.

I also broke up with him 50 times.

To be clear, I was upfront about my feelings. I’m exaggerating the number, but not by a whole lot. I told him time and time again that this wasn’t really working out and we needed to stop seeing each other. It doesn’t speak well of where I was at the time that my breakup attempts never took. He was controlling and I was easy to control.

Instead of taking it seriously, he psychoanalyzed me.

In response to my sudden argumentative tendencies and my repeated breakup talks, he woke me very gently one morning, looked deeply into my eyes, and said he thought I needed to see a psychiatrist. I agreed immediately but added that I’d probably need it most in my post-him life.

I faked my period for the last three weeks of our relationship.

This is absolutely true. I think he believed me at first, but not for the entire three weeks. In the interest of full disclosure, I have to admit that during this period of time (ah ha ha), he broke up with me because we weren’t having sex. Win/win!

He was my last one-night stand.

Also true. He was the last boy I ever slept with, as well, but that’s probably not related in the slightest. Well, except as it applies to him. I had zero f*cks left to give about squashing my sexuality after being with him, that’s for sure.

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